


Matchmaking

by VitaeLampada



Series: Missing Pieces [1]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Pon Farr, Spock as a child, Teen Spock (Star Trek), Uhura as a child, Vulcan Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-08-04 03:38:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 41
Words: 29,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16339103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VitaeLampada/pseuds/VitaeLampada
Summary: The first story in a series which fleshes out events mentioned in my other Spyota series "Soul Possessions".  Chapters may or may not proceed in chronological order.  But each will have a note explaining exactly where it belongs in time, and where it would fit in the "Soul Possessions" series.It may or may not matter whether you have read any of my work before.  For this series, there will be notes at the beginning of each chapter to advise."Matchmaking" has stories which expand on Sarek's subversive but successful decision to bond with a human, and the conventional but disastrous decision to bond his son with a Vulcan.If you have not read "Soul Possessions", you may not recognise some characters or will find some situations strange.  If you prefer stories that follow 'canon', I would say my writing complies about 50% of the time.





	1. Pickled Mango Sandwiches on Bongoyo Island

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter, "Pickled Mango Sandwiches on Bongoyo Island", takes place in the year 2240, when my version of Nyota Uhura is twelve and in the care of her Vulcan guardian T’Shin, who also goes by the Swahili name Shauri.  
> How it ties in with Soul Possessions: In chapter 7 of "The Architecture of Emotion", Nyota recalls how she asked her guardian if she could have a Vulcan bondmate. And in Chapter 14, T'Shin mentions discussing this possibility with Sarek. This scene gives more details.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spanish phrases used in this drabble:  
> “¿Dónde está Emmanuel?” – Where is Emmanuel?  
> “¿Necesitaba orinar?” – Did he need to urinate?  
> “¿Madre, podemos reprogramar el día de español?” – Mother, may we reschedule Spanish day?
> 
> Swahili phrases:
> 
> Kitu gani – what a thing!

T’Shin unpacked the small table she brought with them on excursions where food preparation was required.  She extended the four legs and removed the caps fixed to the ends, to reveal pronged feet.  They would sink into the sand and give her a stable work surface.

 _“_ _¿Dónde está Emmanuel?”_ she asked Nyota.

Her foster daughter had spread their mat over the ground and pegged the corners.  Then Nyota chose the best place to set down the hamper.  T’Shin watched her open the lid and carefully remove the muslin wrapped spinach leaves first.  To keep the wind from blowing the parcel away, Nyota weighted the edge of the cloth with the condiment pots.

The whereabouts of Emmanuel remained a mystery.  T’Shin noted that Nyota paused her work three times to scan the forest thirty-four meters from their picnic spot.

From this scant information, T’Shin made an educated guess.  _“¿Necesitaba orinar?”_

Nyota shook her head.  She also pulled her lower lip between her teeth, a sign of agitation, but she was not allowing her Vulcan guardian to use their psi bond to understand the cause.

T’Shin did not push for an explanation.  There was time.  Nyota had placed the container of _kreila_ where her mother might reach it.  The biscuits needed to be sliced and the pieces brushed on one side with sesame paste.

And their surroundings warranted some dedicated attention.  Nyota’s school held Family Day on Bongoyo Island every year.  T’Shin admired how the landscape presented itself in discreet and monochrome divisions: white sand, green forest, azure sea.  Water temperature today was twenty-eight degrees centigrade, comfortable for bathing.  One of Nyota’s teachers, Consolata Cheboi, already stood waist high in the waves, supervising those children who wanted to swim before they ate.

Then T'Shin felt Nyota open the bond like she had opened the hamper, and presented what she had previously been hiding.  The emotional picture appeared healthy; Nyota was calm.  She had been angry and hurt, but these reactions had been confronted and correctly processed.  Only traces remained.

 _“¿Madre, podemos reprogramar el día de español_?” Nyota asked.

T'Shin replied in Standard.  “We will postpone it for another six hours and fifteen minutes.”

Her daughter laid out their three covered place settings.  T'Shin felt Nyota's consciousness forming a question but was surprised, since nobody else was nearby, to receive the enquiry by telepathy.

“ _Shauri, may I please have a Vulcan bondmate_?”

Then it became T'Shin's turn to conceal some of her own thoughts.  Seven days ago she had explained to Nyota the Vulcan practice of _koon-ut-la_ , the bonding of children.  Naturally, it did not escape her daughter's notice that this ritual took place, in most cases, when both participants were seven years old.

At the time Nyota made only the passing remark, “Five years younger than me.”  But she did not express more interest.

This was what T’Shin reported back to Sarek.  But before making the subspace video link to the Ambassador's residence, she took extra precautions.  Nyota was sent with an overnight bag to stay at her grandmother’s house, so there was no possibility she would overhear.

“Perhaps,” T'Shin suggested to Sarek, “they could meet first, without any context.  Spock is permitted some leave from his instructors.”

Sarek remained silent for eleven seconds.  In the background, T’Shin could see Amanda watering the potted palm in his office, which had striking pink leaves.

“Spock has visited Earth on a few occasions to meet his human relations in Seattle,” he replied at last.  “I would expect him to ask for an explanation if we travelled to any other location.”

“Could you invent a diplomatic reason to visit?”

“…possibly.”

T’Shin could not sigh in frustration, but sat forward in her chair.  “It would be easier if I could visit Shi’Kahr.”

Amanda looked up from her watering.  Her eyes seemed to express sympathy.

“That would not be wise,” Sarek warned.

He did not need to elaborate.  Five months ago a diplomatic errand did bring the Vulcan Ambassador to Dar-es-Salaam, to express the High Council’s ‘strong recommendation’ that T’Shin place Nyota in the care of her blood relations, abandon further efforts to develop the girl’s advanced telepathic ability.

“They believe,” Sarek told her then, “that Nyota Uhura should content herself with being human.”

T’Shin refused. 

“What the Councillors believe is not reality.  Nyota’s ability is exceptional.  She may not be Vulcan, but she is different from her fellow humans and often expresses her awareness of this.”

“Shauri!”

The sound of a strong voice, calling her Swahili name, brought T’Shin out of her thoughts.  Joseph Lowassa, the school’s vice principal, was striding across the beach in the direction of their picnic spot.

“ _Binti Shauri,”_ Mr. Lowassa called again, “where is Emmanuel?”

T’Shin glanced at Nyota, who had just removed the lid from the pot of pickled mango.  Shame in a wave came across the bond from daughter to mother. 

“ _Tell him the truth,”_ T’Shin urged telepathically.  She had sensed, quite suddenly, that Nyota would rather not.

“We had an argument,” Nyota told her teacher when he drew to a halt at the edge of their mat.  “We were behind the lavatory block, and Manny ran off.  But he stayed on the forest trail – he didn’t run into the undergrowth.  I thought he would come back by now.”

She did not look at the principal as she spoke, but concentrated on spooning some of the pickle on top of each sliced _kreila_.  Mr. Lowassa folded his heavy arms.

“Argument,” the big man repeated.  “ _Kitu gani!_ You two sound like an old married couple already.”

Because T’Shin had taught her well, Nyota did not react to this remark, one of Mr. Lowassa’s many insinuations about her close friendship with Emmanuel Kasembe.

“I will go find him,” the vice-principal said.  “We cannot have the son behaving like his father.  He will end up starving and miss the boat home.”

He turned away, and T’Shin watched his broad back retreat as he headed towards the trees.  Before she could ask Nyota for further explanation, more was volunteered.

“Manny still has nightmares about Angel, the way she died.  I just want him …,”

In her mind, Nyota’s thoughts did not hold back.  _I just want him to be happy._ But she finished her sentence as if there were no wanting, no desire involved.

“I believed he would benefit from the techniques you have taught me, to deal with his grief.”

“And he disagrees with you.”

Nyota did not reply.  She closed off their bond, and resumed preparations for lunch.

That left T’Shin in two minds.  The conclusion reached during her subspace discussion with Sarek was that the risks of bringing Spock and Nyota together outweighed the possibility they might be compatible bondmates.  She did not know whether or not to reopen that conversation.


	2. Msasani Bay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter carries on where the previous one left off. We are with Nyota's school picnic as the group returns to the mainland from Bongoyo Island.
> 
> The one Vulcan term used in this chapter - kilkau-torek - means algorithm.

Inclining his head towards T’Shin, so that he could lower his voice, Mr. Lowassa remarked, “I see that Mr. and Mrs. Kasembe have not made peace with each other.”

Consolata Cheboi had asked the children to line up along the port side of the lower deck, ready to file off the boat when it docked.  Nyota stood in eleventh place with her head and shoulders stooped, so that Consolata’s daughter could tidy her windblown hair into a halo braid.

Emmanuel lingered by himself at the starboard railing, looking out at the water.

It took the vice-principal two hours and twelve minutes to locate the boy and persuade him to come back to the picnic spot.  T’Shin had filled his covered place setting with food and saved it for him, but Emmanuel would not eat.

“Mr. Lowassa,” she replied, “as a Vulcan, I lack local cultural immersion and may misunderstand your meaning.  Do you imply this marriage between my daughter and Emmanuel entirely as a joke?”

Mr. Lowassa straightened up, cleared his throat, looked as though he were preparing a solemn pronouncement.

“ _Binti Shauri,_ what you see here is typical of what I see so often at school.  If that boy cannot be with her, he prefers to be alone.”

“And you believe this is clear indication that they will become husband and wife?”

“Ah,” he said, “only God knows the future.  But tell me, because a daughter shares secrets with a mother:- am I so far from what is probable?”

T’Shin attempted a calculation, similar to the _kilkau-torek_ employed to determine the compatibility between Vulcan children before bonding.  Nyota and Emmanuel had many things in common – birthplace and culture, language, religion and their parents’ involvement with Starfleet.  Both had interests in natural history, music and dance.  Both were good swimmers.  They shared gentle, introspective natures.

They diverged in areas of ability.  Nyota performed better in academic subjects, Emmanuel in physical education and all aspects of art and design.  Nyota’s psi control gave her greater ability to step away from the quiet, intellectual side of herself and attempt new things, meet new people.  Her aptitude for languages made it likely she would want opportunity to communicate with non-Terran species.

Both children knew the pain of losing close family in their youth.  What Emmanuel lacked was the support of adults who had the ability to process their own grief.  Mr. Kasembe, Emmanuel’s father, could not cope with the loss of his daughter Evangeline and occasionally disappeared from the city, leaving no means of contact, for several days.  And even a Vulcan would have pronounced Mrs. Kasembe too quiet, since Terrans needed speech to express their thoughts and feelings.

And so the most critical variable in this algorithm was Emmanuel’s emotional health.  Unless he became stronger, T’Shin could not give him high odds for success in any relationship.  Perhaps she should assume a reasonably positive outcome, and then reassess all the other factors ….

This took more time.  Mr. Lowassa, quite accustomed to waiting for Nyota’s guardian to answer questions, did not interrupt.  In the meantime the boat crew had cut the engines and allowed the vessel to drift gently towards the dock until it bumped against the bulkhead.

“Forty-six point two seven percent,” she said at last.

“You say that is their chance of success?” the vice-principal asked. 

“At best,” T’Shin qualified.

“I see.”

The boat was secured and the gangway fitted to the port deck.  The line of children began to file off.  Nyota glanced back once, to locate her mother, before she followed the rest of her classmates. 

Mr. Lowassa walked away from T’Shin and went over to Emmanuel.  He put an arm around the boy’s shoulders and coaxed him away from the starboard railing.


	3. Searching Brown Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still carrying on from the previous chapter. Nyota and T'Shin on their way back home from the school picnic.

Nyota said, “If we had a car, not only would the seats be wider, but we would have a space between driver and passenger for the controls.”

“And what purpose would this additional accommodation serve?” T’Shin asked.

“We would not need to put up mental shields, the way we do now.”

The city hover trams wanted to encourage standing passengers, so the central aisles were wide and the benches on either side narrow.  With all their picnic paraphernalia, they needed to sit.  Nyota let T’Shin have the window seat, to keep her from accidental contact with strangers.  And then she crammed herself alongside, tight against her guardian’s body.

“It is no great inconvenience,” T’Shin said.

Not for you, Nyota thought.   She could protect her own thoughts from intrusion if she concentrated.  But if she concentrated, her mind was fully occupied.  She could not let it wander.

So Nyota pressed her knees more tightly together and embraced the hamper.  That would be enough, if she was careful and didn’t relax a single muscle.  No stray thought would pass between her and T'Shin and she could allow herself to consider a subject that had fascinated her for several days.

_Koon-ut-la._

What would it feel like?

T’Shin said it differed from the psi bond they shared. 

“In what way?” she had asked.

And strangely, T’Shin seemed lost for words.

“It is--,” she began, then went back to correct herself.  “It _should be_ the most powerful connection possible between two people, enhanced by attraction, which is why parents search carefully for the most compatible partner, to increase the likelihood of that attraction.”

Do I tell her?

Nyota did not want to make a fool of herself.   It was just a face that she had seen.  The news bulletin from Shi-Kahr did refer to a list of names, which could be accessed from the index, but during their Vulcan culture lesson seven days ago she had no chance to look it up.  T’Shin set her a difficult challenge.

“Translate the article into Standard as you read aloud.”

“Quartet Thirteen Hundred and Five, whose members attend the secondary education institute in the Khartau District, have been awarded recognition for their … I do not recognise the next word.”

“It is an adjective indicating extraordinary levels of achievement.”

“Superlative?”

“An appropriate translation.”

“For their superlative renditions of …,” Nyota paused again, unsure.

“ _Vo’ektaya_.  The cultural designation for a group of composers who began creating music in the third decade of this century.”

“ _Vo’ektaya_ pieces.  They will give a performance for the High Council and Elders in sixty-seven days’ time, at the central concert hall.  Attendance is by invitation.  Additional performances will follow in Regar, Chi-ri, Devlarm and K’Lan.  Dates and venues are listed in the index.  Did you want me to read those?”

T’Shin lifted an eyebrow sharply.

“It is not testing your ability to read a list of dates.”

Nyota came so close to blurting it out.

“I need to know who he is.”

But she didn’t.  She imagined the rest of the conversation now, on the hover tram.  T’Shin would ask her, “Who?”

And she would point to the photograph of the quartet, to the boy sitting first from the left, playing the _ka’athyra._ The boy whose brown eyes seemed to be searching for her.


	4. Quartet Number Thirteen Hundred and Five, Part 1: Subtle Gesture

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place on Vulcan, about two months after the events in Chapter 3

Amanda told their pilot to make two stops.  The domed roof of the Shi’Kahr central theatre was flat at its highest point, topped with an airy cupola constructed with reflective glass and titanium supports.  The diplomatic hovercar flew inside and parked in its reserved space.  But today it would stay only long enough for Spock to disembark alone, take himself and his _ka’athyra_ into the performers’ entrance.

Dignitaries had another door nearby.  Amanda saw her husband there, talking with Councillors Hunith and V’Lanev.  He glanced at their son as he passed, and then at the car.

His thoughts moved faster than his eyes. 

_“All is well?”_ he asked through the bond.

Amanda let him feel her consideration of the question.

_“There have been no concerning developments,”_ she replied.  Then she told the pilot they should go.  Any more delay would make it difficult for her to be greeted by all their new relations.

The car made its second stop at ground level.  Amanda stepped out onto the concourse and joined the crowd of patrons attending the concert.  They filed into the massive portico, showed their invitations to the ushers as they passed through the half dozen archways that fed into the lobby.  Amanda made her way to the stage right lower balcony, where T’Pring’s parents had reserved three sections.

As per custom, families of newly bonded pairs were expected to attend two or three public events together, a signal to others that they were now related by the link between their children’s minds.  A notice would also appear in the registration records of Shi-Kahr, which many Vulcans studied regularly and Amanda often wondered why the custom persisted.  Attendance at the concert could not exceed the eight hundred seat capacity of the hall, and the other planned events -- a banquet to mark the transition of their offspring from the secondary to tertiary levels of schooling and a guided tour of the High Council chambers – would have fewer witnesses. 

Amanda believed it must be a concession to emotion.  T’Pring, she could see, wore a new robe for the occasion.  Her long hair had been drawn up into a weave and decorated. 

Loma, T’Pring’s mother, left her daughter’s side the moment she saw the Ambassador’s wife waiting at the end of their row of seats.  Amanda was greeted with a _ta’al_ followed by a gesture more subtle – the fourth and fifth fingers dipped forward slightly before Loma let her hand fall back to her side.

It was acknowledgement of the Sacred Bloodline.  For those who were biological descendants of Surak, no acknowledgement was required.  Loma was permitted to use the gesture during these public events, and then not again until Spock and T’Pring produced children.

Surak himself would probably have found these points of decorum reprehensible, more so this fixation with his DNA as if it somehow made his progeny a superior brand of Vulcan.  But Amanda had been present for all the bonding negotiations, during which Sarek had played the birthright card for all it was worth. 


	5. Quartet Thirteen Hundred and Five, Part Two: Astounding Music

Lights dimmed to thirty percent inside the theatre, a signal to the audience that the performance would begin in twelve _lirt’k._  Conversations were quickly concluded.  Amanda took her leave of T’Pring’s paternal great-uncle along with all his immediate family, and went to find her seat.

When the lights dimmed again at the seven _lirt’k_ mark, she noticed that she had not given in to her usual compulsion to convert the Vulcan units of time into Terran minutes.  What might that signify? 

Her reserved place was the middle seat in a row of three, with T’Pring on her right.  No armrests, as would be normal in Terran theatres.  Amanda’s future daughter-in-law had arranged the silver grey fabric of her cloak so it covered her lap without wrinkles or puckers, and concealed her hands underneath.  Her head was still and her gaze fixed on the stage with its four empty chairs.

“She is regarded by her character references as something of a maverick.”

It was the first thing Amanda learned about T'Pring.  But it hardly registered, coming at the end of three frustrating years and fifty-seven attempts to broker a bonding for Spock, which had all come to naught.  Sarek read aloud the confidential reports submitted by the girl’s teachers and Amanda listened.  What Vulcans regarded as T’Pring’s eccentricities – a tendency to anticipate decisions and take actions ahead of instructions, or to factor some of her emotions into those decisions, would not have been considered worth mentioning, had she been human.

But in her own society, such qualities counted against her.  Loma and Amanda had this in common – their children were not A-List candidates, perhaps not B-List.  They had experienced the same hopes and disappointments where _koon-ut-la_ was concerned, and so their working relationship, which was critical in bonding negotiations, began and continued with mutual respect.  It satisfied Amanda to be treated as an equal.

In addition Spock and T’Pring were not strangers.  They attended the same secondary education institute, had an ongoing competition for the highest results in computer science examinations.  T’Pring also played the _ka’athyra._ They had performed together as Duo Nine Hundred and Twenty Nine.

Sarek appeared at the two _lirt’k_ signal, when the lights went out completely.  He slipped into the waiting seat on his wife’s left.  Like T’Pring, he would be carefully smoothing his cloak, and arranging its flared sleeves so they draped over the each side of the chair, an extra layer of fabric at the places with greatest risk of accidental physical contact.

Amanda listened to the sound of shifting cloth with amusement and anticipation.  She felt one of the sleeves land on her lap.  As the quartet filed onto the stage, Sarek’s right hand moved under cover of clothing and darkness to cross the space between them, trace the outer swell of her thigh up and over the crest.  It stopped between her legs.

Spock and his fellow musicians – T’Shirik on pipes, Stonn playing second _ka’athyra_ and Sunis on treble chimes and drum – took their places and began to tune their instruments.  The bond between Spock and T’Pring, according to her husband, was likely to need time for a different kind of tuning.  Most Vulcan couples, he assured Amanda, grew into their alignment and reached perfect harmony after a few years together.

Amanda took his word on that, since their own duet started with no need for adjustments, just a sudden bursting forth of the most astounding music.  As Quartet Thirteen Hundred and Five began to play their opening piece, the fingers of Sarek’s right hand copied the drummer, playing the beats against her body.


	6. Quartet Thirteen Hundred and Five, Part 3:  Muted chord

Spock sought the earliest opportunity, after the concert, to apologise.

“In quarto three, at the thirty-fourth section, I was seven-sixteenths of a second late to mute the augmented chord.”

The quartet sat in their accustomed formation, a semi-circle of chairs, but now two storeys higher than the stage, in the main rehearsal room.

Sunis inclined her head in his direction.

“The recorded version by Quartet Eleven Hundred and Sixty-Nine has an interpretation of quarto three that does not mute.”

“Eleven Hundred and Sixty-Nine played the quarto at reduced tempo,” T’Shirik remarked.  “They were considering the final lines of K’sut’ya Tavar’s dedicatory poem, which speaks about growing old.  In their opinion, the music as typically presented did not adequately reflect those sentiments, and prompted their reinterpretation.”

“Nevertheless, we did not discuss or agree upon a different approach,” Spock countered.  “And my actions were not interpretation but a lapse of concentration.”

“Agreed,” Stonn stood to speak.  “But your _koon-ut-la_ ceremony took place only the day before yesterday.  In such situations, a lapse is understandable.”

Stonn turned and steered his way expertly between the many unused chairs in the rehearsal room, heading in the direction of the exit without stating a reason for his departure.

“Perhaps,” Sunis suggested, “we should choose to honour Eleven Hundred and Sixty-Nine when we perform at Regar.  Tavar is buried there.”

Spock said he would cooperate with whatever the majority agreed.  In truth he was giving more attention to Stonn’s remark than any other.  If their second _ka’athyra_ player believed that a musical error could be a side effect of _koon-ut-la_ , he might be speaking from personal experience.  And yet Spock had not perceived anything that felt like psi contact.  He imagined T’Pring, like himself, would be fully engrossed in the music.  She had performed Tavar's quartos herself.

Should he have expected to sense something?  Had he missed anything?

Stonn arrived at the exit, opened the door and stood aside as if to admit entry to someone outside.

That someone, who appeared two point six seconds later, was Spock’s bondmate, accompanied by her mother.

The rest of the quartet stood.  Spock attempted to make contact, mind to mind, while T’Pring was addressing Stonn.  He hoped she might give her opinion whether his mistake did or did not have an adverse effect on the third quarto. 

Her response suggested she had not noticed.


	7. Feel A Way in the Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vulcan terms used in this chapter:  
> Neikah – the crease or hollow at the junction of the inner part of each thigh with the pelvis. Includes the external genitals.  
> Limak – (apparel) A covering in front for ornament, protection from wear.  
> Weinat – (apparel) a cowl, a loose hood or hooded robe

In Amanda's own, humble opinion, Vulcans had perfected the art of flirtation.  No human would believe her, if she were to tell, but to tell would defeat the object because the object was to give the appearance of _not_ flirting or better, not so much as registering the existence of the person whose sexual interest you wished to stimulate.

This was why Sarek stood gazing at the stars through the ceiling porthole inside the spacious diplomatic car, while she sat on the divan behind him reading the concert score on her PADD.  Their pilots had them on permanent surveillance.  They might speculate about the predilections of the current Ambassador and his alien wife, but they would never know.

It all happened silently, his thoughts to her thoughts.

_“Spock has been invited to stay with his bondparents overnight?”_

Amanda closed the music file and checked her messages while she responded.

_“Adun, the question suggests you were not listening when I told you the first time.”_

_“It is possible I have been inattentive.  I found the music most engaging.”_

_“The music being performed on stage, or the music you played on my neikah?”_

Her husband had pressed the palms of his hands together with care, as if the fingers that drummed her into an appetite were fragile.  He held the fingers under his chin and closed his eyes.

_“You pretend to meditate.”_

_“Vulcans do not pretend. I am meditating on the warmth and pliancy of the aforementioned neikah.”_

He fed her the sensation of each touch a second time, and his own reaction.  At this juncture it was also appropriate to commend Vulcans for their attention to dress.  Males wore a _limak_ between their robes and cloak because the coarser, coated fibres protected the finer fabric underneath from sun and wind damage, and could be wiped clean.  Longer versions could conceal an erection.

Females who opted for a _weinat_ with its deep folds along with a double collar and expansive sash could swallow and breathe more rapidly on receipt of their bondmate's arousal like an energy wave rolling down their spine.

_“Spock will be away overnight.  And with only two of us, I saw no need to retain any household staff. I gave them paid leave.”_

_“Considerate, aduna.  They will be grateful.”_

_“As will you.”_

One of the pilots opened a comms channel from the cockpit and announced their descent.  A little wind turbulence made the floor shudder before the thrusters were completely drained and the car rested all its weight on the roof of their home.

Amanda disembarked first.  While she made a stately crossing over the roof to the service entrance, Sarek stayed back to confirm the pilots had their instructions to collect him for the next session of Council in two days' time.  She opened the door, stepped inside and waited on the stairwell landing, in the corner where the darkness would be complete once they were both shut inside, and he would need to feel his way to her. 


	8. As We Did Then

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vulcan terms used in this chapter:
> 
> ozh’esta – the acceptable showing of public affection between Vulcan bondmates, where they extend the index and middle fingers of their hands and touch.  
> ma-spes – my invention. The literal translation is ‘possession voice’ and refers to the feral, growling noises Vulcans are said to make when sexually aroused.

He pressed against her, pressed her against the wall of the landing.  Through her robes Amanda felt the sun's warmth which had accumulated inside the stone during the day.  Sarek lifted her arm by the wrist and positioned her hand alongside her head, with the palm facing him.

Knowing his intention, she uncurled her fingers and left a gap between each of them.

He began with _ozh’esta_ – his first and second fingertips touched lightly against hers.  Then added gradual pressure.

Amanda sighed.  She was so ready for this.

Then she felt the tip and slide of his touch as it diverted along the outside of her index finger.  Like the turn of a key, that tiny motion unlocked a layer of her mind.  Psi defence was not one of her natural talents.  Sarek trained her enough to develop a rudimentary mental shield which she wore like clothing in public.  At the moment he removed it, her body stretched in appreciation of the mind’s freedom.

The bridge of Sarek’s nose balanced against her forehead.  As she stirred, it separated that one part of her from him, and her bondmate uttered his first, soft _ma-spes_ from the back of his throat.  His telepathic voice growled.

_“You must not provoke me and then attempt to escape…,”_

_“As if I could.”_

A sense of satisfaction passed through the bond.  Sarek resettled his nose and his hand resumed its meticulous ride over each of her index finger joints.  When he skated down into the fleshy fold that connected with her thumb, her mouth opened involuntarily.

_“You desire --,”_

_“Please …,”_

The tip of his nose dragged across her brow bone, down her temple.  Amanda felt Sarek’s teeth graze the plum of her cheek.  Eleven years ago, the first kiss they shared was the first he had ever attempted mouth to mouth.  Now he still began tentatively, doing no more than placing his lips over hers.

He let her decide what happened next.  This did not mean he had no preferences – whenever Sarek left the initiative with her, what aroused him was an aggressive counterclaim, an attempt to mark him.  He let her tongue come fishing for his, let her suck the muscle between her teeth and bite him.  Thankfully, intensity mattered less than duration.  He did not need her to draw blood, only leave him with marks and a burning sensation.

In return her gums were lapped by that satisfied tongue and Sarek’s mouth would grow softer and wet.

His hands would not neglect their work in the meantime.  The profoundest revelation of their bond was the potency of digital stimulation.  Amanda knew, before she met Sarek, that knowingly touching a Vulcan’s hands without his or her consent amounted to sexual harassment.  With consent, she imagined any enjoyment would be one-sided.

But if Sarek traced along the skin where her ring and pinky finger met, her throat would feel warm and she would want him to start kissing her there.  Between the ring and middle finger he could communicate with her breasts.    

He was perhaps a little impatient, because he chose to lathe the heart line of her palm and drive his finger into the channel between her index and middle fingers.

_“So hungry?”_

Sheepish and self-deprecating – her husband rarely revealed emotions she could describe that way.

_“The occasion of Spock’s bonding prompts appetising memories.”_

Amanda laughed into Sarek’s mouth.

 _“Let us do as we did then,”_ she suggested.

And she tried to explain with her own memory.  T’Pau married them on Mount Seleya, using her private chapel.  The high priestess told Amanda that secret ceremonies such as theirs were common before the Awakening, when sexual competition meant that bondings conducted in the open air were often disrupted by rival suitors demanding a contest.

The chapel had a door only the matriarch could open.  Sarek and his new wife were ushered through and instructed to make their own way along a long, dark corridor that seemed as if it would take them to the heart of the mountain.  Because the sight of it intimidated Amanda, Sarek lifted her into his arms and carried her through the gloom until they reached the chambers prepared for them.


	9. Carried Away

_“From this information,”_ Amanda heard Sarek speak softly within in her mind, “ _I surmise that ‘do as we did then’ means I should carry you from this point, through our unlit house, with the intent of taking you to our bed?”_

_“Yes.”_

A request so illogical did not warrant a discussion of merits.  It therefore bypassed all her husband’s thought processes -- one of the secret shortcuts Amanda had discovered that took her more directly to the man behind the defences. 

Sexual desire, in and of itself, was another.  Sarek’s free hand invaded her cloak and began to overwhelm those areas of strategic importance: using his fingernails to create the lightest, most tantalising fabric friction over a nipple, drawing spirals across her stomach, pressing his thumb into her navel.  His kisses now demonstrated his eleven years of experience, knowing how she wanted to feel his wanton hunger by the sloppy way he devoured her mouth.

A few more minutes of this and Amanda felt light.  She was nothing for Sarek to lift in any case.  He could do it with one arm, while the other continued its glorious conquest of her body.  He found a way under her skirts and inside the drapery of Vulcan undergarments and brought her to her first orgasm in that suspended state, the stairwell becoming an echo chamber for her helpless cries.

Face buried in the sleeve of his outer robe, she needed telepathy, because she could not speak.

_“I will never get enough of you.”_

Sarek growled.

_“You imply that I cannot exhaust you with these attentions?”_

She butted his ribs with her head.

_“I do,”_ she said, seeing the chance for provocation. _“I do imply, adun.  Let me see you try.”_

She felt Sarek turn towards the stairs and begin their descent.  Nine steps took them to the first floor landing, with doors leading off to the private wings of the house.  In her husband’s mind, choosing the right hand exit would be the most efficient way to reach their destination, but not a fair approximation of the journey they made as newlyweds.  And so he continued down.

At ground level the stairs fed into the rotunda at the centre of the house.  There were sky lights overhead but Vulcan had no moon to illuminate these.  Amanda identified the direction they travelled by sounds and scents.  Sarek’s boots made a distinctive rap on the rotunda tiles.  In the kitchen marigolds bloomed and appliances hummed.  The hybrid climbing rose she named after her son was the defining perfume in the breakfast room.   The music room had an acoustic floor and panelled walls to absorb sound.

From there Amanda thought he would turn directly into the portico which was the dividing point between the ambassador’s public and private spaces.  Instead Sarek diverted into her study, a place he often urged her to relocate because he considered the area (five metres by five point eight) too confined for concentration, while her terrace formed part of the public face of their residence, and made her more liable to be disturbed.

But she had insisted.  And so he arranged for renovations to give her a concealed exit and private passage into his office.

Sarek's room was double the size and contained an elevator going up to their apartment.  The interior lights activated automatically as its doors opened, and so the mystique of darkness ended.  Amanda felt she needed to do something different.

“Put me down,” she said as Sarek stepped inside.

“We have not yet reached --,”

“I said put me down!”

He did.  The bond between them crackled with mutual excitement.  Sarek faced her with his eyes wide, his pupils eclipsing all their colour.

Amanda operated the controls to shut them inside.

“Remove all your clothing,” she demanded.

He obeyed, shrugging off his cloak and handing it to her.  When he had unfastened the neck and waistbands of his _limak_ and lifted it away from his body, Amanda made him stand side on so she could see just how far his robe had distended.

Her pelvic muscles jittered, and that travelled across the bond also.  Sarek’s erection pulsed once in response.  He grabbed the upper edge of his belt, but paused before he began to unfasten it, watching her watch him.

The belt was elaborate, with two rows of ten small clasps.  Sarek opened the first, left a pause, opened the next, then left a longer pause.  After the third he put his hands behind his back and defied her with his stare.

_“Adun …,”_ she warned.

The elevator compartment was now very warm.  Amanda took off her sash and cloak in a fury, threw them on top of Sarek’s things already on the floor.  She unfastened her belt with a pointed look and a telepathic admonition.

_“This is how it should be done.”_

Her belt joined the other discarded clothing.  Amanda lifted the hem of her robe and rolled it up to her armpits.  She held that in place with her left arm while her right reversed out of its sleeve and lifted the collar over the back of her head.

It left her in a state of undress that would be laughable on Earth, and not the least bit provocative.  She wore her _tvitaya –_ effectively a shift.  Its robust grey knit smoothed and supported her breasts and the ribbed panels extended down to her kneecaps.  Underneath that hung a pair of matching _ash’ai_ in a style which flared at her ankles.

On Vulcan no one except a bondmate ever saw these garments.  Amanda suspected certain fetishes were accommodated by the variety of designs.  Over the last four years she had switched to _ash’ai_ which fastened to the hem of her _tvitaya_ using pins to pierce both garments from the inside out.  An assortment of fasteners could be bought to cap the pins, decorated with unnecessary lengths of chain, fringe or beading. 

In the days that led up to their second _pon farr,_ Sarek ordered her a dozen different cap sets.  In the heat of _plak tow_ he implored her to wear a different one each day and tore them off using his teeth.  He wanted to be marked with the exposed points. 

His gaze dropped now to check these fastenings.

“No,” she told him.  “Not while you disobey.”

This was all the provocation Sarek needed.  He released his own belt clasps five at a time, opened his robe using the side seam seals.  That left him with only his loose _malanu_ trousers and his blood darkened _lok_ protruding through the slit.

“Acceptable,” Amanda said.  She activated the elevator.

The doors opened again onto their private sitting room, but they did not come out until she had goaded that erection using her soft palette, tongue and teeth and felt it erupt inside her mouth.


	10. Copper Sands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We move forward four years - in the universe I created for "Soul Possessions", Vulcans experience their first pon farr around the age of fourteen, and there is a break in their formal education to accommodate this. In Chapter 5 of "The Architecture of Emotion", Spock recalls how his blood fever came five years late. At fourteen, he felt no desire for his bondmate T'Pring, but instead experienced arousal in dreams, where a nameless and faceless female would satisfy him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vulcan terms used in this chapter:
> 
> Sa'mekh – father  
> Ko'mekh – mother  
> yamareen - the hormone in Vulcan males which causes symptoms of plak tow  
> khaf-tukh - copper

Spock knew he was dreaming now.  Dreams demonstrated how hybrid genetics had configured his brain.   _Sa'mekh_ told him Vulcans did not dream.  _Ko'mekh_ said he was fortunate.  Humans probably dreamt more often, but unlike him they rarely recognised their dream state while it happened or remembered the details after they woke.

In this dream he had relocated himself from his bed to the exterior of his parents' house, to the lowest and furthest section of the garden where the wind sculptures put the constantly moving desert air to good use.  Perhaps, because dreams were an inherited human trait, his dream self either could not or would not conceal its emotions.  He felt restless, and walked laps around the benches his parents had installed so that guests might witness the vibrant Vulcan sunsets and appreciate the light effects on the sculptures.

His dream self knew he was waiting for someone.  Illogically, he had no named individual in mind, and yet the quality of anticipation did not suggest the person was a stranger.  More irrational was his certainty that this unknown/known person would come from the desert.

And so he studied the sand dunes for some sign – he did not know what.

A dream incarnation of _Ko-mekh_ came looking for him.  She kissed him on the cheek, studied his eyes for truth the way his real mother did. 

He asked her, “Will it happen?”

She said, “Your blood tests show that you produce _yamareen_ in the normal quantities for a Vulcan.  Only a minute change in percentage volume is needed for symptoms to start.”

Spock was not satisfied with her answer.  He left her, stepped over the retaining wall that marked the boundary of their property, and began to walk away into the desert.

“Where are you going?” his mother called to him.

“I must find her.”

Dreams afforded him the illusion that he could cover distances at great speed.  In a second he was standing at the foot of Mount Seleya, and looking up at the Hall of Ancient Thought and the stone footbridge that connected it to the Sacred Circle.

He wanted her to be here.  But there was no sign of anyone.

He began to walk again and quickly found himself in the most inhospitable wastes of _Eiktra T'Plak,_ where the only feature of the landscape was the fine sand, the colour referred to as _khaf-tukh_ brown, after the ductile metal.

He did not know where to go from there.  All he did know was that he could not turn back.

Then the sky grew dark.  Spock felt the chill of desert night, and pulled his cloak tight round his body.  He looked up at the stars, and considered how, given the billions of them in the galaxy, he should not need to find himself alone.


	11. Ha'ma

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vulcan terms used in this chapter: (all words sourced from https://www.starbase-10.de/vld/ with thanks to webmaster Kai Becker for providing this resource online.
> 
> ravot - insects  
> Ha'ma - my invention. 'Ha' is the word for life (or also light) combined with 'ma' the possessive sense of the verb 'to have'  
> lok - penis

In the inexplicable way of dreams, one of the stars began to pulse.  And then, while the rest of the night sky remained fixed, the throbbing celestial light grew steadily larger and brighter.  When it had expanded to five times its original size it dropped as if it were not a star projecting its energy over light years but a small, bright object only a few meters overhead.

It landed in the sand, raising a substantial amount of dust.

He might have reached it in less than an instant.  Instead Spock watched as the dust rose and halted in mid air at the point where gravity ought to have urged it back down or the wind scattered its particles.  He watched it gather like a swarm of _ravot_  and slowly redirect its motion, spinning faster and faster as if directed by centrifugal force.

The vortex drew up more dust, along with particles of light from the fallen star.  The swirling funnel gained height.  Then it suddenly narrowed at its midpoint -- the material above and the material below the centre also began to change, but not in identical ways.  Spock could not come up with an explanation for the phenomenon, but he felt excitement.

There came a point where he realised that he was watching the formation of a sculpture. 

The copper coloured cyclone became dense to the point of presenting an opaque surface with contours he could not see how else to interpret: legs, hips, waist, breasts, shoulders.  Above that the sand dispersed in wisps and coils like long, intied hair.  Arms emerged from the sides of the body and lifted themselves clear.  Hands opened and extended themselves towards him.

Starlight formed an aura all around her.

A gust of wind caught her and she drifted in his direction.  Spock felt a vibration underfoot and an ache to accompany each of his heartbeats.  He hoped, as she came closer, that he might be able to distinguish facial features.  But it soon became clear.  The sand sculpture approached so close he could touch it, but it remained a woman in the abstract, not the specific. 

Though it had no mouth to speak, he heard an inviting voice.

"Spock"

She raised her hand and presented a  _ta'al._ He returned the salutation, puzzled.

"What are you?" he asked.

"My name is Ha'ma," the voice said, "the life you possess.  You do well to seek me."

"I do not know what I seek."

"But you will know.  When it is found, you will be moved.  Everything within you will seem to shift, align with it.  No well meaning arrangements will be necessary, no negotiations, no bonding rituals.  Your choice is more powerful than these."

As Ha'ma advanced still closer, Spock believed he felt such a shift. And there were other sensations, new to him, but resembling items on the list he and his fellow students had to commit to memory before they could begin their fourteenth year sabbatical.

His face flushed. His ears itched. His heart rate increased and the rhythm became less regular. His lok filled with blood and became rigid. 

And Spock knew Ha'ma was right. He had done well to seek her.

Her brown body came so close he could distinguish the grains of sand and cosmic dust that made her.  The hand with which she saluted him was still held high, and in the gap between her fingers he saw an intimation of the place between her legs, which mattered more than anything ever had.  He raised his hand also, and saw how it trembled. 

"Will you take me," she asked, as their palms connected, "or will you allow someone else to possess what is yours?"

Her words burned and made him burn.

"I will take what is mine!"

He did not recognise his own voice. More stars fell from the sky and flashed in front of his face. And then Ha'ma was all around him; he stood inside her, was the centre of her stretching, pulsing vortex.   


	12. Only Thirteen in Recorded History

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vulcan terms used in this chapter:
> 
> sa-nei-masu - semen

The dream broke when he woke himself, shouting. 

For five seconds, Spock’s eyes were open but he could not understand what he saw.  This was not his bedroom; there was too much light to his left side.  And though his bed was firm, it was not as hard as the surface on which his back rested now, nor as cold.

Then it was a shock to realise where his right hand was situated, and to consider why it felt so wet.

Spock sat bolt upright, and confirmed what he least wanted to believe.  His hand was coated with his own _sa-nei-masu,_ and there was more smeared over his stomach.  His _lok_ stood up between his legs, dark green and slick and aching with a need he had started to hope he would never have to control.

His legs were splayed across the polished stone floor of his study.  Near his feet were the cabinets which stored the myriad instruments used for his science homework.

How did he get here?  When did he remove his clothing?

His _lok_ , via his nervous system, continued to make demands.  But the mess on his hand, body and the droplets he now saw on the floor repelled him.

He was not his dream self, who had no qualms with desire.

Spock closed his eyes, began to time and count his breaths.  He had worked hard, over years, to conquer his mind and body.  He had done it in the face of ridicule and doubt from his fellow students and teachers.  When presented with the facts about _pon farr_ by those teachers, he became more determined.  He set his sights on the rarest level of psi discipline, attained by only thirteen Vulcans in the whole of recorded history.  He intended not to surrender to the fever.

“Spock?”

His mother’s voice.  To judge from its volume, the distortion caused by interrupting walls and the steps he could also hear, she was slowly climbing the stairs which led to his apartments.

 _"Ko-mekh,”_ he replied, keeping his voice even, his eyes closed.

He heard her reach the top of the stairs and stop.  He heard her swallow.

“Are you well?”

He had not discussed his plans with his parents.  Both of them observed him with vigilence, enquired frequently after his health.  From his mother this behaviour was characteristic, but even his father seemed ... unsettled ... because he had reached the last days of his educational sabbatical with no symptoms of _plak tow._

“I am,” he said.  His genitals had lost blood and relaxed.

His mother did not speak for the length of time it took him to inhale and expel another twenty-four breaths -- three point five _lirt’k._ It was unusual.

Spock opened his eyes, stood up.

“Is there something more you wished to say?” he asked.

While she remained at the head of the stairs, he could not return to his bedroom to clean himself or dress without being seen.

“No,” she said at last, but with an edge in her voice that left him less than convinced.

After another pause of eight seconds, she added, “T’Haar has prepared breakfast, but is not certain how many places to set at the table.  Will you and T’Pring partake?”

T’Pring – with everything he needed to process upon waking, the fact that she was his guest had not yet registered.  Carefully, he tested their bond, and found it unchanged.

“I presumed she would assist our cook with those preparations.”

“She is not with you?” his mother asked.

“She is not,” he replied.  He tried the bond a second time.  In accordance with their agreement, he reached for her mind to make a legitimate enquiry after her wellbeing.  There ought to have been a designated portion of her consciousness open to this kind of exchange.  He could not find it.


	13. Untouched

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vulcan terms used in this chapter:
> 
> "ko-mekh" - mother  
> "ko-fu" - daughter  
> "senepa" - according to Vulcan Language dictionary, "a weapon with poisoned tip/blade with a crescent-shaped blade and an inset handle". I reckoned the poison was pre-Surak, and imagined that the knives themselves were still made on Vulcan for less deadly purposes.

_-Ko-mekh-_

Loma was not awakened by the call that came from her daughter through their bond.  She had not been asleep.  Her response was instant.

_-T'Pring, speak.  Has it begun?-_

_-I do not know-_

Loma rose from her bed.  She did not ask the household computer to activate any lights. 

_-Does he display symptoms?-_

She sensed some uneasiness from T'Pring before her daughter answered.

_-I do not know-_

Loma stopped short at the door to her study.

_-Show me what you can see-_

The image that reached her was a close view of sandy ground with scrub grass and small stones, possibly the borderlands outside the city limits of Shi’Kahr.

_-He has taken you into the desert?-_

_-No, Ko-mekh-_

_-Ko-fu, you misunderstand.  I want you to show me Spock-_

_-Spock is not here-_

In the bed behind her, Loma heard Chivok’s breathing change.  She sent her bondmate a note of reassurance – not telling him all was well, but merely that she had everything in hand.  Then she slipped inside her study and closed the door.

_-Spock has left you?-_

_-No.  I left him.-_

_-Where are you?-_

_-As you surmised, I am in the borderlands, thirty-seven degrees east of the boundary road between Khartau and Anonak Districts, bearing north.-_

_-Why?-_

Loma tried to listen, but as the details were revealed the only way she could prevent an emotional response from leaking into their connection was to put her nervous energy to use.  She walked through the study and out the second door, down the curved stairs that opened out on the room that had once been the children’s nursery.

Virtually all the reduced scale furniture had been given to Loma's son, for the grandchildren.  Only one small chair remained.  The sight of it, along with T’Pring’s ongoing story, raised doubts about how they had raised their youngest child.  Had she not been subject to the same quality of discipline as her older siblings?  Loma could not think of an example to substantiate, but could not think of another explanation either.  Why did her second daughter behave so differently? 

As with all young bonded pairs, T’Pring and Spock were encouraged to spend time together during the academic sabbatical.  They had been in each other’s bedrooms, albeit during the day.  Normally such proximity was sufficient to trigger the first blood fever.

That Spock’s symptoms were late was concerning.  But more than that, neither Amanda’s son nor Loma’s daughter betrayed any of the expected adolescent curiosity about sex.  Both mothers watched for increased eye contact, stolen kisses.  Loma gave T’Pring an ornately carved _senepa,_ for marking her mate.  Amanda replaced the potted plant inside Spock’s hygiene station with a stone tub of Rillan grease.

When Amanda confirmed that the contents of the tub had still not been touched, it was Loma who suggested an overnight stay. 


	14. A Mother's Recommendations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is what T'Pring tells her mother about her overnight stay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vulcan terms used in this chapter
> 
> “mes-koma” – my invention. Literally “cross robe”, it means T’Pring is wearing a garment which crosses over at the front of her body and fastens. Her mother recommended this garment because it is (in Vulcan terms) provocative – it draws attention to how little effort is required for the wearer to undress.
> 
> “lik’rk” – seconds
> 
> “yukupik” – my invention. Literally “dormant”, I have invented a time of year when there is low cloud and little wind in the Vulcan desert, usually the precursor to a storm.
> 
> “aitlun” – want, wanting.
> 
> “Heyalar t’Arlanga” – a mountain range northwest of Shi-kahr. See https://kirshara.files.wordpress.com/2012/07/map-of-suraks-vulcan.pdf
> 
> “kahs-wan” – an test undergone by Vulcan adolescents where they must survive for ten days in the wilderness of Vulcan’s Forge. 
> 
> “keshtan-ur” – vagina
> 
> “ikapirak” – the closed posture for meditation
> 
> “v’hral” - hour

_Ko’mekh, I followed all your recommendations.  I wore the blue mes-koma without a cloak or belt, left my throat uncovered and platted my hair into a single braid.  Lady Amanda remarked favourably on this presentation when I arrived at the Ambassador’s residence._

_She did so, I believe, to draw Spock’s attention to my attire and elicit some comment from him.  I also believe that the look he gave me was an act of compliance to his mother.  Later, when we retired to his apartments, and there was opportunity for him to study my appearance more closely, I did not observe myself being observed._

_I also took your advice, once we were alone, and put forward my hand to initiate an ozh’esta.  For thirteen lik’rk I waited for the reciprocating gesture._

_Our contact was brief.  I cannot be entirely certain what the gesture should communicate, because ours seemed silent._

_Nothing of significance happened for the remainder of the day.  We were able to take tea in the garden, where the copper sculptures stand, because the yukupik season rendered them motionless.  Now and again we conversed about our reading and at my suggestion, Spock assented to go inside to the music room, and I performed my recent compositions for him._

_I held my mind open.  I allowed him to experience how the music moved me.  And when I had concluded my second piece, I paused, because he gave me a reaction in return.  It contained emotion – I am hesitant to choose a word that might simplify its complexity, and I had little time to consider what he felt, because it passed through the bond as quickly and lightly as breath.  But there was aitlun._

_The Ambassador and Lady Amanda retired to their apartments after evening meal.  Spock invited me to his wing, to his reception room and the covered terrace which faces northeast.  We watched the peaks of the Heyalar t’Arlanga grow darker.  We talked about his completion of the kahs-wan.  I was surprised by Spock’s candor; the incidents he related had not been shared with anyone else.  He wanted me to understand how the ordeal convinced him of the existence of inner strength that did not rely on custom or teaching, a surety which, in his opinion, offered some of the benefits of a bond, a bond with one’s own katra._

_We talked until we could no longer see the mountains.  When the wind came from the east, we both knew a storm was imminent and returned indoors.  Spock showed me to his bed chamber.  He invited me to have private use of his dressing room and hygiene station, to change from day to night attire.  Here again I did as you suggested.  I stripped down to my tvitaya and ash’ai but did not put on my sleeping robe.  I untied my braid, stooped forward and combed through the hair with my fingers.  I rubbed kaasa kernel oil into my arms and legs, and lubricated my keshtan-ur._

_I returned to the bedchamber and found Spock ikapirak on a cushion in front of the cabinet where his ka’athyra was stored.  So that I would not impose upon his state of consciousness through the bond, I assumed kneeling position on a rug nearby and quieted my thoughts._

_My meditation lasted for three v’hral.  Spock remained in trance.  Perhaps, at this juncture, I ought to have consulted you.  I reasoned that my best recourse would be to occupy his bed and wait._


	15. Truth Dawning

In Shi’Kahr, the beginning of dinural rotation was marked as the moment starlight found a gap in the peaks of _Heyalar t’Arlanga_ and illuminated the topmost point of the city Pinnacle.  T’Pring reached a location which would afford an ideal view of this dawn.  It was a nondescript place in the borderlands, with nothing but a natural depression created by prehistoric meteor impact and a thicket of mixed succulents.  She had committed these features and the grid coordinates to memory.

The bond with her mother, like most of the surrounding landscape, was waiting for enlightenment.

_-What happened, T’Pring?  Did Spock come to bed?-_

_-Briefly-_

_-Briefly?-_

_-I do not understand what happened.-_

_-Show me-_

T’Pring braced herself to revive the memory, drew her cloak around herself more tightly.  She had waited another _v’hral_ for Spock to finish meditating.  It seemed only logical, after that, to allow herself some sleep.

Her mother communicated satisfaction when she heard the sound that woke her daughter.  Almost certainly it came from the back of Spock's throat, articulating no words because it was a reaction which predated language.  T’Pring opened her eyes to see her bondmate, naked and standing over her.

And then mother, like daughter, was taken aback by his eyes.

_-He is not looking at you-_

_-He never looked at me-_

Spock made another animal sound, clenched his fists and turned away.  He left the bedchamber.

_-I followed.  I found him standing outside the doors to his reception room.  I placed myself in his line of vision but his eyes … they had no intelligence, no comprehension.  He did not respond when I spoke his name.-_

She shivered.

_-T’Pring?-_

_-It is cold.-_

_-I can bring the hovercar.-_

_-No.  There is starlight on the Pinnacle.  It will soon be warm.-_

In the face of something mysterious, T’Pring decided to do something unconventional.  She once saw Amanda place her mouth against her son’s face, near his meld points, and in the context it was given it seemed to be a Terran way to convey empathy, solidarity or simple affection.  She attempted to copy this.

He reacted, turning his head in several directions, but his eyes remained blank.

“Will it happen?” he asked.

_-How did you reply?-_

_-I did not understand the question-_

Spock took a step backwards, clenched and unclenched his hands.

“I must find her.”


	16. Found in the Desert

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vulcan terms used in this chapter -
> 
> "topal" - coat

_-Find who?-_

T’Pring did not answer her mother immediately.  The dawn could now be seen as a red aura over the mountains.  She spotted a flying object travelling between two peaks.

It might be …,

As quickly as she could, she projected the rest of her memories into the bond.  Spock moved away from her again, did not reply when she asked, “Where are you going?”  Convinced that he could not see, and would throw himself down the nearby staircase, T'Pring put herself on that side of his body and trailed him as he moved, stopped whenever he stopped.  He took her to parts of his accommodation she had not yet seen – empty rooms provided for the expected occupation of wife and children.

She called his name four times. 

When he had walked as far as the hallway would let him he seemed to know.  He doubled back, turned into what T’Pring guessed was his study.  She could not see the furnishings, but felt the difference underfoot, in the protective finish on the floor that provided a surface suitable for practical work in chemistry.

Spock stopped, gazed up and around the dark interior.  She watched his shoulders lift and sink.  Then, suddenly, he lifted his right arm and made _ta’al._

And T’Pring believed she heard him say, “Ha’ma.”

***

_-T’Pring?-_

The flying object had changed direction by the power of her thoughts.

To her mother she said _– I apologise-_ to explain the brief closure of their bond.

_-Not necessary.  The recollection is…quite disturbing.-_

_-Ko-mekh, is this plak tow?-_

_-I have never heard of such symptoms.-_

_-He said it several times, “Ha’ma”.  Is it a name?  He became sexually aroused.-_

T’Pring resumed her memory, up to the point Spock reclined on the floor and began to stroke his own erection.

Then her mother asked her to stop.  The flying object cleared the mountains and dropped its altitude over the desert.  It was identifiable, to those familiar with twenty-second century Federation hoverpeds.

_-I left him then.  I left the Ambassador’s residence as soon as I could get dressed-_

T’Pring felt her father’s consciousness brush through the shared space of the bond, curious and concerned.  Then both parents withdrew from her mind long enough for the hoverped (Nomad class, 2198 C model, seven speed with retractable sidecar) to cover the distance to her coordinates.  It came down in a perpendicular drop, settled in the deepest part of the ancient meteoric crater. 

The thrusters raised little dust – T’Pring noted this with satisfaction.  The work she did to modify the jet flumes continued to benefit, four years on.

Stonn powered down the drives, dismounted, removed his head protection.  He stayed with his vehicle, did not approach her.

_-You do not normally ride this early in the day-_

_-I sensed your distress-_

_-There is nothing you can do-_

_-Yet you called to me-_

The sun’s corona brought morning colours into the sky.  T’Pring felt a new set of thoughts brush against the boundaries of her psi awareness – Spock.  She shivered again.

Stonn risked a single step in her direction.

_-Let me take you home-_

_-That would be foolish-_

_-To walk outdoors before dawn wearing a thin cloak is foolish-_

_-I had to get away from him-_

They never used the names of their respective bondmates in each other’s presence.  As much as possible, they shielded each other from the facts of those associations, because the punishment of separation was enough.

She felt Stonn’s anger.

_-I will take you away from him forever-_

_-Stonn, that would only damage the reputations we have worked so hard to improve-_

_-Then we embrace these reputations.  We are considered rebels only because we did not let others choose for us.  We chose each other.-_

She turned aside, only to give herself visual relief.  The contemplation of his features was affecting her resolve.

But Stonn knew he had a hold on her, whether she looked at him or didn’t.

_-We must take the disapproval of our families, our teachers, and convert it to sympathy-_

_-How?-_

She heard the familiar sound of the retractable sidecar being extended and secured.  When she could not resist, and turned back towards the hoverped, she saw Stonn shrug off his quilted _topal_ and hold it out to her.

_-We could start by gaining the support of another rebel-_


	17. Waiting Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Notes: This chapter moves the story along two years. Spock has still experienced no symptoms of blood fever (dream symptoms don’t count) and so his parents take him to Vulcan medical specialists for tests.
> 
> Quote from The Architecture of Emotion, Chapter 5: “By contrast, (Spock) continued in a state of suspended childhood with T’Pring, his betrothed. He experienced sexual arousal in dreams, satisfied by abstractions of the female, a partner whom he could never see above the shoulders, whose name was a mystery. With his bondmate he felt nothing. This situation, coupled with medical tests which cast doubt on the percentage viability of his spermatozoa, meant his father was drawn into negotiations with T’Pring’s parents with a view to dissolve the bond.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vulcan Terms used in this chapter:
> 
> Pi’shi’has Tev’rak Sutor-aikum – Literally “West Satellite Clinic”, the name of a facility in Shi-Kahr which specialises in treating sexual dysfunction.
> 
> Masutra t’Voroth – the ocean on the western side of continent Ni’nam, also west of Shi-Kahr

It gave Amanda small consolation (very small) that the  _Pi’shi’has Tev’rak Sutor-aikum_ was designed with such sympathy.  The clinic had been constructed below ground, underneath Shi-Kahr’s tertiary urban medical facility.  Staff could access the building from the surface, but to protect patient privacy those with appointments could reserve access by one of several tunnels and be observed by no one except the specialist they were meant to see.

Their consultation area had a waiting room with white walls and floor tiles cut from emerald green vokaya.  A transparent aluminium tank, taller than Spock, gave the space a focal point.  Amanda identified two species of bioluminescent eels from _Masutra t’Voroth_ inside _._ She used her PADD to scan the other fish as they swam past and called up their species information.

It might provide fifteen or twenty _lirt’k_ of distraction.  Amanda had correspondence she should write, but doubted she would manage to concentrate.

And sure enough, once she had catalogued every marine creature in the tank, scrolled through her files pointlessly and sent Sarek a short message which he knew, after eighteen years together, was a substitute for psi contact when his bondmate did not want her emotions read, there was nothing left to do but stare at the closed door to the andrologist’s office. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind, patient readers - two apologies.
> 
> 1\. For being so late - I had a nightmarish university assignment which monopolised my weekend and most of today. I honestly thought I would never finish it.  
> 2\. For how short this chapter is - I really just wanted to post something so that you knew the situation. I will try to post another update Thursday or Friday evening.


	18. Seven Point Five Fluid Units

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vulcan terms used in this chapter (all taken from the Vulcan Language Dictionary at https://www.starbase-10.de/vld/). Many thanks to webmaster Kai Becker for this invaluable resource!
> 
> sa-nai-masu : semen  
> yamareen: the hormone produced by Vulcans which is responsible for the symptoms of pon farr  
> kastorilek lokik: My own invention for Doctor Norik's medical device, derived from the words for "stimulate" and "penis"  
> ko-mekh: mother 

Spock considered his data as he saw the words and figures spill down the display walls behind the andrologist’s desk. His blood _yamareen_ level was elevated -- by point zero four seven percent.  This was not beyond the range of normal but near the upper limit.  It was higher than the level recorded when he had his last scan, nine days previously.

Today, Doctor Sai-Tukh Norik saw him.  She was considered the leading Vulcan authority on adolescent development, and had beamed over from her research offices to conduct this consultation.

The doctor deactivated her tricorder and returned it to its dock on her instrument panel.

“I will also require a sample of _sa-nei-masu_ ,” she said.

Behind him, Spock heard the soft sound of a door opening.

“You will find a container inside the adjoining soundproofed cubicle.  It must be filled to the level indicated by a line engraved on the exterior surface of the cup.  Instructions for operating the _kastorilek lokik_ will upload to the wall display once the door has locked.”

Spock waited until he was sealed inside the oblong cubicle before he crossed its length and stood before the _kastorilek_.  He read the instructions.

  1. Remove all clothing which might interfere with the operation of this unit. The cabinet to the left may be used to store garments.
  2. Protective gloves are provided to the right of the sample container.
  3. Once hands are covered, ensure that the dispensed container sits within the marked circumference on the sample access pad.
  4. Align genitalia by moving the adjustable phaser panels so that their silicon seals fit snugly against the greater cotranter bone of your left and right femurs.
  5. Activate the stimulation phasers using the labelled controls.
  6. After ejaculation, remain stationary. A recorded message will confirm whether the collected _sa-nai-masu_ is sufficient volume for testing (a minimum of seven point five fluid units).
  7. The unit is programmed to collect, seal, clean, label and transfer the _sa-nai-masu_ sample to the testing laboratory.
  8. A sonic sterilisation routine will ensure that all ejaculate is cleaned from the instrumentation and exposed skin. A recorded message will confirm when this process is complete.
  9. The consultant allows fifty-five _liryk_ to elapse after this message for the patient to dress and meditate. Utilise one of the emergency call points if you require assistance before this.



Spock required no assistance.  And yet, at the end of the allocated time, the locked cubicle door would not open.  He waited an additional ten _liryk_ and only then used a call point.

Doctor Norik's voice transmitted through the small amplifier above the sensor.

“I will require a second sample.  The _kastorilek_ has been reset.”

She did not explain what had made his first sample unsuitable; he had to assume that something occurred after it was transferred to the laboratory.

It was noticeably easier to meditate afterwards – the second build-up and release of sexual tension seemed to enhance his ability to focus.  At the end of fifty-five _liryk_ it puzzled Spock that the cubicle still remained locked.

It opened after fifty-eight _liryk,_ and the consultant made him stand still while he was subjected to a second tricorder scan.  His blood _yamareen_ levels remained unchanged.

Doctor Norik wrote lengthy notes on her PADD and accessed a number of files without addressing him.  When she did speak, it was to tell him he might return to the waiting room and ask his mother to come into the office instead.

***

Naturally, his mother refrained from discussion as they left the clinic via their reserved underground conduit.  From the day Spock turned fourteen, they had formalised this parent/child agreement:  she would make a private enquiry if she believed he was in distress, but if he insisted there was no cause for concern she would accept his answer.

He was not distressed, only curious.

“Why did Doctor Norik have nothing to say to me?”

His mother gave him a sidelong glance, the war-weary look that contained a little anger but a greater proportion of bemusement and resignation.  It signalled a situation where, yet again, his mixed genetics erased him, made him a non-entity.  And it brought to mind numerous voices from his childhood, and their taunts – “you should not have been born", “you have no place in this universe", “why have you been given a bondmate?  It would be better if the fever killed you.”

“If it is any reassurance,” his _ko-mekh_ said, “the doctor had little to tell me.  In all her years of study, she has never seen test results like yours.”

They did not talk for the remainder of their walk along the conduit.  But Spock was alert to all his mother’s unconscious micro-gestures and could read them.  If she wanted to speak, but the subject matter was sensitive, her left upper canine would catch and release her lower lip.  She did this twenty-nine times after they were transported from the conduit to the diplomatic hovercar, and another six times (that he could see) after they left the car and entered the house from their roof entrance.

When they reached the ground floor rotunda, Spock had a clear view through the kitchen and beyond into the garden, where T’Haar was gathering tomatoes.  Before they were spotted, he asked, “Mother, what is it?”

She turned to him, visibly surprised.  After three point five seconds of hesitation, she replied, “We should go into my study.” 

Because they had left the house so early, her room had not been aired, and the scent of miniature roses was heavy.  _Ko-mekh_ waited for him to close the door again, and then she waited longer, until she had drawn two more breaths.

“I would understand if you were displeased,” she said.

And then she waited again, as if he would experience this reaction before he knew the reason.

“Doctor Norik has treated eighty-seven young Vulcans whose … symptoms … have been delayed.  Her methods are unusual but have been consistently successful.  Until today.”

Spock considered the hypospray given to him before the first tricorder reading was taken, the two requests for samples, the Doctor’s silence.     

“She was attempting to induce …?” he asked.

“Yes,” his mother answered with a sigh.  Now her anxiety could be detected through their bond.  “That is why you saw a female andrologist, and why I accompanied you this time instead of your father.  T’Pring and Loma were also in the clinic, waiting in another location, ready …,”

 _Ko-mekh_ pulled up her sash so it covered her mouth, and in her mind there was the certainty that her son would be angry.

But he was not.  He did not reveal why, but transmitted his strongest reassurance and allowed her to grasp him by the shoulders and kiss him on the cheek. 

He left her then, went to his apartments, took advantage of his heightened concentration to draft a ten thousand word scope of work in preparation for his Systems Development mid-course examination.  That completed, he took tea and tomato salad by himself on his terrace.  And he allowed himself seven seconds of exultation, expressed by fisting his right hand and tensing his upper arm to make that fist thrust.  He was immune.  Vulcan’s foremost andrologist could not bring on the symptoms of that inescapable madness.  And sooner or later those who tormented him would find out that his genetics, which they so despised, could defeat the one thing that had defeated the rest of them.  


	19. An Arresting House Guest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vulcan terms used in this chapter:
> 
> koma and malanu – tunic and trousers  
> liryk – a unit of time comparable to a minute  
> suus mahna – a particular Vulcan martial art technique  
> kov-sayas – a nut  
> ek’tukh-tal – minerology  
> asenoi – firepot  
> s’thaupi – my invention. A heightened state of consciousness achieved by meditation

After eating, Spock went to his dressing room.  He removed his day robes, draped them over the airing frame and changed into a lightweight set of _koma_ and _malanu._ On a long mat laid out over the hallway floor, he practised the postures and combat holds he had recently learned from his _suus mahna_ coach.

After that he showered.  He put on robes again, took his dishes to the kitchen and washed them by hand.  Noting that his mother was in her study, he spent two hundred _liryk_ in the adjoining music room because he knew she concentrated better when the _ka’athyra_ provided melodic background sound.

For the final three pieces, she came out and sat with him.

They prepared the evening meal together.  Food for six, as Father had enquired and received assurance from both of them that he might invite Admiral Migiro, the visiting Head of Starfleet Africa and her executive assistant to stay overnight before they returned to Terra.  T’Haar made up two beds in the guest wing.

The conversation over dinner was pleasant but inconsequential, consisting mainly of exchanges between the Admiral and his father about planned recruitment to expand the XenoCultural faculty in Dar-es-Salaam.  The Admiral had three candidates in mind for one professorship, and sought the Vulcan Ambassador’s views on two, with whom he was better acquainted.

Zuri Magese, the Admiral’s assistant, allowed mother to admire her jacket and dress, and gave a detailed explanation of the process by which the pattern had been printed onto the fabric.  Spock was seated such that he viewed her in profile.  And he noted how many aspects of her appearance – her tinted lips and skin with a sheen like the polished shell of _kov-sayas,_ the broad collar of multi-coloured small beads which covered her neck and draped over her shoulders, with the same shades of blue and gold appearing in her clothing – these things were arresting amidst the understated presentation of everyone and everything else in the room. 

Though he was certain he did nothing to encourage any attention, she turned in his direction frequently with an open mouthed smile and wide, bright eyes.

After dinner Admiral Migiro asked Father for a private meeting.  Mother took Zuri to the guest wing to inspect the rooms.  Spock helped T’Haar clear the table.

Before they had transferred the dishes from dining room to kitchen, Spock was struck by a note of pride coming from his _ko-mekh_ through their bond.

_-I have just been informed that I have a very handsome son-_

He responded.  _–Physical beauty is a highly subjective quality-_

This comment did not subdue her emotional response.  He decided, since she rarely enjoyed the company of humans, not to belabour the point.

Later, after returning to his apartments, Spock read through his textbook for _ek’tukh-tal_ and completed the assignments for the first four chapters.  During that time the sun set.  When there was no light outside he extinguished the lights inside.  He ignited a spark to burn the tablet of incense waiting in the bowl of his _asenoi_ , which he had mounted on the bedroom wall.

He sat down in his habitual place, in front of the cabinet. 

One hundred and sixty-seven _liryk_ elapsed.  At this point Spock altered his breathing pattern, intending to make the ascent towards a state of _s’thaupi._

After another twenty-four _liryk,_ he believed he heard a distant voice like Zuri Magese’s and a distant sound like her laughter.   After a few seconds, he heard it again.  The only reasonable explanation, given his distance from the guest accommodation and the late hour, when humans needed sleep, was that his mind had diverted from _s’thaupi_ and entered a dream state.

Nine _liryk_ after the laughter, he felt a current of warm air move across the front of his body.  His eyes did not open, but he could see.  On the oblong rug that extended from the foot of his bed there was a small heap of brown sand.  The warm air scattered its fine grains over the floor, then became stronger and drew them back together, stirring them into vortex that also stirred his memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zuri Magese meets Spock again nine years later, when he and Nyota fly to Dar-es-Salaam for Christmas break 2257 (see the chapter titled "Greens and Blues" at the end of "Alpha Incognito"). Spock consults Zuri about booking holiday accommodation and the best place to take Nyota for drinks. I do not record Zuri saying anything to Nyota about knowing Spock already, but I suspect the two of them had that conversation at some point.


	20. Standing

“Ha’ma.”

Spock heard his yearning, how it cracked the steady baritone in his voice.

The grains of sand needed less time to settle into a finished form.  She knelt on his rug, body held slightly forward by her hands, which overlapped on her thighs.  Spock felt a hot, sharp ache at the tail of his spine and unfolded his legs.

Her voice was more warm air that made his sleeping robe flutter.

“You see – you are not immune to me.”

He was not.  His face flushed; he put a hand against his neck and felt the warmth that began to emanate from him.  Of their own accord, his fingers stretched and crawled over his jaw, climbed his chin.  When they reached his mouth he put out his tongue and lapped the tips. 

“I am your life, Spock, your life lived whole.  You cannot delay it much longer; you must find me and know me.”

Pleasure – each finger was a _ka’athyra_ string he plucked with lips and tongue and the vibrations travelled down to his pelvic floor.  Music played and beadlike spots of colour interfered with his sight.  Spock became warmer and warmer between his legs until it was impossible to stay still.  He let his body tip sideways and his legs stretch out until he lay flat on his bedroom floor.

Then Ha’ma could look down on him.  Her face had no features, no eyes.  He felt her gaze like a touch that glissed down the front of his robe and by its power dissolved the fabric.   He knew when she admired his _lok_ because the nerve endings quivered the way they had when exposed to the _kastorilek_ sensors.

Together they watched his penile tissue fill with blood, become more substantial and stand.

“Do you understand now?” Ha’ma asked.  Her hand, so soft, reached out to stroke him.

“Life waits in here.  But you wait, thinking you will stand tall in the eyes of others by not standing up at all.  All of you must stand, Spock, all of you.  What the others think is not important.  When the fever comes over you, I will be the only thing that matters.”

“Ha’ma --,”

The word was forced out of him by her ministrations.  The exhaled air provided enough force to disperse the grains of sand that made her and they rose like a storm, made a haze in front of his eyes and pricked his skin in places too numerous to count.


	21. Well Oiled, Moving Fingers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vulcan terms used in this chapter:
> 
> tono'pak - a tree with oil bearing fruit.   
> malanu - trousers

Sometime during her marriage to Sarek, Amanda fell out of her human habit of using a device to check the time.  Every Vulcan was a walking chronometer and kept religiously to their personal routines.  It proved more efficient to track time by observing their behaviour.

If, as was the case tonight, she woke to find the dressing room door open, it meant that her husband was changing from day to night robes, and she had been asleep for three hours. 

Amanda sat up.

“Did the Admiral make enquiries about T'Shin?” she asked.

“Affirmative,” Sarek replied, from inside the dressing room.

“Was she angry?”

“I find it best to defer to you in matters of human emotion.”

“That is very skilled flattery,” Amanda said, opening the top drawer of her dressing table.  “But you are a capable judge yourself.”

She lifted out an atomiser of _tono’pak_ oil, held it in her right hand to spray the palm of her left several times.  She felt his emotions change as his sensitive ears heard each release of pressure and his nose picked up the scent.  He was now modifying his choice of sleepwear.

“She was rightly displeased that Councillor Hunith did not respond to the enquiries she made in writing,” Sarek replied.  “She challenged me to admit whether the Council would not have sought an explanation as she did, if there had been Terrans living on Vulcan who suddenly, inexplicably disappeared.”

“And what did you say?”

Sarek emerged from the dressing room, wearing only _malanu_ with a drawstring waist.  Amanda continued to rub oil into her hands and he watched.

“I said I believed they would.”

“She does not know that you had a psi bond with T'Shin?”

Sarek gave her the blank look he used to chastise junior diplomats if they asked a question which was inappropriate to the situation.  Amanda failed to see a reason for it.

“ _Ashayam_ ,” she said, “the Admiral is a military woman.  I merely reasoned that she would make use of any source of intelligence at her disposal.  She came all this way and asked for you.  I thought perhaps, somehow, she had learned how close --,”

The bond between them, which had been growing warmer, now had a note of discomfort.  Amanda smiled.  In the presense of his bondmate and her well-oiled, moving fingers, Sarek did not want reminders of his diplomatic visit to Starfleet Africa twenty-nine years ago, and the liaison which (at best, he assured her, as if she needed assuring) was in hindsight part of a search for the ultimate connection of minds and bodies, which he did not find until he met her.

“I know,” she said softly, “come to bed.”


	22. Great Risk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The search for T’Shin, Nyota Uhura’s Vulcan guardian, was a sub-plot running through “The Architecture of Emotion”. T’Shin disappeared mysteriously from Starfleet Africa headquarters around Nyota’s sixteenth birthday. After that time, all references to her on Vulcan were expressed in the past tense, as if she had died. This penalty of non-existence was imposed on her for refusing to abandon a multi-generational project to develop psi ability in humans. Nyota’s own abilities were noticeably superior – see the chapter in TAOE titled “Damage and Reparation”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vulcan terms used in this chapter:
> 
> Nosh’tah – my invention, combining the words for ‘status’ and ‘unobtainable’.

Sarek prevaricated.  He walked slowly to his side of the bed and stopped, faced the carvings that ran up the wings of their vaulted headboard.  He clasped his hands behind his back.

Amanda transmitted mild amusement and was ignored.  Undaunted, she sprayed more oil on her hands, until it was a precarious thing to keep a grip on the atomiser and hold it out for her bondmate to take and help himself.

He glanced at the bottle, at her, at the bedcover pulled back. 

“ _Ashayam_ ,” his endearment, barely audible.

Amanda put the atomiser down so it would not slip and make a noise, disturb the fragile atmosphere between them, the way a careless handling of words might do.  She concealed her own hands beneath the sheets, leaned back and fixed her gaze on him, for as long as it took.

Based on previous experience, that had not yet needed more than fifteen _liryk_.  Vulcans were walking chronometers even when they needed to come to terms with their own emotions.

“I have been in communication with her,” he said at last.

“T’Shin?”

“T’Shin.”

Amanda left a pause, to put in place her mental shields.  This was not the right time to exult in the triumph of his heart over his head.

She asked her husband, “Is the lady well?  Safe?”

Sarek’s brow furrowed.  “Amanda, I have disobeyed specific instructions from the Council.”

“I know,” she said.

“T’Shin is to be regarded as _nosh’tah_.  Official records will record the date of her disappearance as the date of her death.”

“You have told me this already.”

“I have taken a great risk.  Why are you concerned for her wellbeing, and not for your own?”

“Because the last time you took a great risk, and defied the Council, you told me you could see no other logical course of action.”

For a few moments, past and present became a perfect copy of each other.  Sarek turned his head in recognition -- she had understood him exactly.  One night, eighteen years ago, there had been the same change in his eyes, a subtle but increased intensity of focus.  What it portended, the younger Amanda underestimated, because she relied on a human dictionary of body language. 

The older, wiser woman picked up the oil bottle and moved it back to the bedside table, for its own safety.

Another fifty-seven _liryk_ passed, during which the next logical course of action was taken.  It dealt with the immediate need for the release of high voltage feeling; it cleaned the oil from Amanda's hands and subdued Sarek’s gaze.  He was content to roll onto his back and let her arrange the bed covers over both of them.  Once she had settled in close, with her head rested on his chest, he reached for her meld points to give her more.

Amanda heard the voice of T’Shin when it first made contact with the Vulcan ambassador _.  I have been separated from my daughter four Terran years._

Sarek replied.  _It would be dangerous for you or I to contact her._

_And so I do not ask for that.  I do not ask for my secret life to be revealed.  But no law forbids me to know whatever I can know.  Please – find a way to get me knowledge about Nyota._

Sarek gave the request lengthy consideration.  As it happened, Admiral Migiro’s regular petitions to the High Council had been taking up time.  More tellingly, they had initiated discussion about the status of Tetov’yth T’Shin in the chambers, which in turn initiated debate between senior and junior members, between the factions of understanding about Surak and the practical application of his teachings, between those who believed Vulcans owed something to the Federation and those who saw the business of governing so many different cultures as burdensome.

Sarek proposed they approach the problem differently, and invite the Admiral to Shi’Kahr.

 _It is an application of human psychology.   Admiral Migiro_   _persists because she desires a return for her effort and receives none.  Therefore, persistence must be her sole offensive strategy.  If she possessed evidence about the disappearance which could compromise this Council, it is logical she would use that to bargain with us.  I believe we should respond to this, her fifth enquiry, in a manner she does not expect.  A human may be emotionally distracted by effusive responses and fail to notice that what they were given was not what they requested._

_Rather than ignore her, I submit that we should extend generous hospitality.  We might consider some compensation for the information we cannot provide -- assistance with the African academy, to enhance its xenocultural or technology departments.  I will make enquiries concerning Nyota Aminifu Halili Uhura, the Terran female whom Tetov’yth T’Shin adopted.  If I believe anything may be done for her, that would placate the Admiral further, I will bring another proposal to this Council._


	23. Seventeen Human Heartbeats

Sarek felt his bondmate squirm against him, momentarily breaking his train of thought.

_Adun, you mastermind!  You arranged the Admiral’s visit?_

He received her astonishment and admiration – the latter feeling surprised him.  His wife was ebullient.

_And you invited her here – of course – a private meeting so you could ask her about Nyota Uhura and pass this information to T’Shin._

He assured her he did nothing which made Admiral Migiro suspect that his enquiries were made on behalf of Nyota’s guardian.  In truth, he made them to satisfy himself.

Now Amanda was puzzled.  But because her skin continued to shift against his, and her hands renewed their interest in exploring his abdominal musculature, he believed her estimation of him would not be significantly damaged if he made one more confession.

_I told the Admiral we wished to make discreet enquiries, to determine whether Nyota might make a suitable bondmate for our son._

Her hand stopped, as he expected.  Where Spock was concerned, Sarek had never before taken a decision without consulting his mother first.

_Sorry?_

He apologised.  _My statement will seem illogical without some accompanying explication._

_It will.  Our son has a bondmate._

_Amanda, I attended two private meetings today.  Ek’esit Chivok and Lady Loma made an urgent request to see me in their home, shortly after the clinic appointment._

She put up her mental shields.  He respected this, and ended their mind meld.

“As you know, T’Pring has the right to access medical records belonging to her bondmate.  The tests conducted this morning on the samples Spock gave reveal that the percentage viability of his _sa-nai-masu_ is less than one hundred live cells per thousand.  This, combined with the fact he has not experienced …,”

Sarek was suddenly grateful they were disconnected.  Perhaps other Vulcan males could refer to the fever with no betrayal of their abhorrence.  He swallowed back the emotion and continued as if he had actually pronounced the word he hated to hear.

“… and the indifference Spock demonstrates in the company of T’Pring casts doubt on the likelihood that their bond would produce offspring, or be mutually satisfying.”

After a silence spanning seventeen human heartbeats, Amanda said, “I understand.”

Her tone of voice was flat.  Any suppression of feeling would demand a great deal of her mental energy, and his human wife would normally have resumed her night’s sleep by now.  He had been convinced their hearts would be aligned regarding Spock, convinced that Amanda would be as relieved as he had been to learn that this pairing could be ended by mutual agreement.

“I would not want you fatigued,” he said, “when we have house guests.”

And he tried to meld with her again, to offer his calm.  She intercepted his hand with hers.

“I …, it will be okay,” she said.  “Honestly.”

And through their intertwined fingers, he could detect a note of resignation.

“You and Lady Loma were greatly invested in the success of this bond,” he said.

Amanda sighed.  Along with the expelled air her shields dropped and she surprised him again with chagrin and the ability to find some humour in her wasted efforts.

“He committed himself to follow the Vulcan way,” she said.  “I thought I was helping him do that.”

“Acknowledged.”

“And though I would never speak against my own species, I do not think Spock would entertain the suggestion of a human bondmate.”

“There will be no need,” Sarek replied.

Amanda was confused, and though a facial expression was not needed to confirm it, she frowned.

He explained.  “Admiral Migiro informed me that Nyota Uhura left Dar-es-Salaam three Terran years ago, and is married.”


	24. Shameful Secrets Cannot Hide Forever, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after Admiral Migiro's visit, very early.

Spock waited, unpleasant though it was to sit naked on his bedroom floor.

The household computer would normally record a drain of power to his hygiene station in one hundred and nine _liryk_.  It was doubtful that T’Haar, who reviewed the data each day, would consider one anomaly meaningful.  But if she noticed that the sonic shower in his room was being operated more frequently, at times which did not correspond with Spock’s routine, there was a risk she might mention the fact to his father during their monthly domestic management meetings.

He could do little while his hands and body needed to be cleaned.  And so he considered the number of times he had been stripped of control by Ha’ma since she first appeared in his dreams, and the interval between each erotic episode.  There was a trend, a disheartening one.  If it continued, he would sit his entrance exams for the Science Academy while having his meditation or sleep disrupted twice daily.

If it continued, it would become more difficult to keep the dreams secret.  More difficult to think and function without noticeable impairment.

Of course, his logic-trained mind acknowledged that there was no reason to conclude what might or might not happen in the future.  These dreams, so far as he knew, were unique to him.  If the visions of Ha'ma did increase, and threaten his ambition to study at the Academy or undertake _kolinahr,_ perhaps his father could be persuaded to take Spock to Mount Seleya and accept a longstanding offer from T’Pau.  The matriarch of clan Surak believed psychic surgery could modify a hybrid brain and make control easier.

Sarek had repeatedly cautioned Spock against the procedure.  He believed it might modify other aspects of his son’s behaviour, and suggested that these could affect his relationship with his mother.  But if it became a choice between surgery and allowing _ko-mekh_ to find out this shameful secret, be shocked to learn how her son moved and spoke in his sleep, how he gathered up and embraced his bedroom rug, wrapped his thighs round it and rutted into the folds until it was filthy with ejaculate --,

If it became a choice between these things, more likely father would concede that the benefits outweighed the risks.  As for Spock, he would do whatever was necessary to stop all the critical looks and remarks that came from relations, acquaintances or even near strangers and disparaged his attempts to be Vulcan, doubted his capability.  He would prove himself to them.

When it was time for his shower, he took the rug with him.          


	25. Shameful Secrets Cannot Hide Forever, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter occurs maybe a week or two after Part 1.  
> For background information, see Chapter 12 -- “Helplessness” -- in the story “A Tale of Two Tyrants” – Amanda will confess to Spock what Stonn has discovered with research – that she was still married to her first husband at the time she bonded with Sarek. The taunts Spock received as a child, that his mother was a "human whore", had some foundation in truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vulcan terms used in this chapter:
> 
> Ahhar D’ruh – the second month

Meetings had to be arranged with the greatest care against discovery.  T'Pring reserved the research capsule on the fifty-fourth level of the library in K’Lan, on the southern island continent of Zhir’tan, and made the seven hundred and eighty kilometre journey from Shi’kahr alone, by shuttle.  Stonn, already employed to take aerial surveys of marine life along the island's coast, came to the library daily to archive his findings on the thirty-ninth floor.  This was his allotted time for private study.

“I took a risk,” he told her, “and revealed our secret to the Ambassador.”

T’Pring asked why.

“Surely,” she said, “this will undermine our endeavours.”

“On the contrary,” Stonn argued.  “By bringing together various archives on the seventy-second level, I have been able to substantiate what until now have been rumours.  Ambassador Sarek lost his first bondmate, T’Rea, in _Ahhar D’ruh_ of the year corresponding to Stardate 2229.  Terran records show that the registered date marking the end of Lady Amanda’s first marriage was early 2230.  When compared with the date of Spock’s birth, it becomes undeniable that she was pregnant before she divorced.”

He called up the necessary data to the display, for T’Pring to examine herself.

“The date of the Ambassador’s second bonding is not recorded.  I can only conclude that it needed to remain a secret, possibly because it also occurred before Lady Amanda was free to wed.”

Stonn listened to the sound of her thoughts as T’Pring processed this new understanding.  And he permitted himself to extend a hand across the space between them and touch the tips of his fingers against hers.

 _“Ashayam,_ ” he said, “we have an ally.”


	26. Shameful Secrets Cannot Hide Forever, Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *** TRIGGER WARNING *** No physical violence occurs in this chapter, but violence and verbal abuse are mentioned and there is some description of psychological abuse. Please feel free to skip to the Notes at the end of this chapter if you would prefer to read a summary that leaves out any mention of this. ***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Events in this chapter happen about two weeks after Admiral Migiro’s visit to Vulcan in 2248.
> 
> Nyota is nineteen years old and living in Mombasa, Kenya. She and her childhood friend Emmanuel Kasembe (Manny) moved there in 2245 so they could marry without hearing any more disapproval from family and friends. If you have read part 4 of Soul Possessions, “A Tale of Two Tyrants”, you will know that Emmanuel came under the influence of a malignant entity who turned an already failing marriage into a nightmare.
> 
> In chapter 11 of “A Tale of Two Tyrants”, Nyota reminds Emmanuel that there was a time during their marriage when she held down two jobs to support them, because Manny was often unemployed.

Nyota became most fearful on shopping days.

She would try to hide it, go outside wearing large sunglasses and a hooded jacket, and speak only when unavoidable.  She got her vegetables and fruit from Paradiso on Old Malindi Road, close to the office where she worked her day job.  None of her neighbours went there, and many of the patrons seemed to dress like her, as if they too had a shameful secret.

At the back of the shop there was a special order counter.  Three old women would trim, peel or chop vegetables any way they were asked.  You wrote instructions on your paper bag filled with ginger or sweet potatoes or onions (the women wore helmets with clear visors so they would not cry).  You were given a numbered ticket.  When Nyota finished her shift she would return to the order counter and exchange her ticket for prepared ingredients.

The old women were angels of mercy.  On most nights Nyota had only two hours to cook, eat and clear up after dinner before she needed to leave for her evening job.

At what point did she realise what else the angels could do?

Not until Manny became Tiberious.  Not until her husband realised that the most effective way to control a wife who had grown to despise him was not to shout, throw hot food across the table or slap her, but to employ the power of the non-corporeal entity who had become his business partner.  Nyota never knew when she would feel that chill which meant she was under invisible scrutiny, never knew when the entity might start or stop reading her thoughts.  Maintaining constant mental barriers exhausted her.  And so she became terrified to let her mind wander.

One evening, Nyota worked late and rushed into Paradiso with seconds to spare before the shop closed.  There was an order waiting on the back counter.  She hoped it was hers, but as soon as she could read the writing on the paper bags she knew the number was wrong.  One of the old women bustled to the counter with eyes that seemed unusually anxious, apologised and quickly moved the waiting bags out of sight.

Nyota received her order and left.  The shop doors were locked behind her, but not quickly enough to stop her from overhearing the women arguing.  The reason was easy to guess – Nyota had seen what they wrote on that other order, meant for a different customer.  It was not just a number, but a line in Arabic script which said, ‘we can help’.

It was some time before she could risk thinking about the experience.

But she managed, here a bit and there a bit.  She worked out that there must some kind of network, with the old women functioning as an exchange point.  No one needed to explain why anything so primitive as pencil scratches on disposable packaging would still be used in a galaxy with multiple means of electronic communication.  The non-corporeal entity could and did control their household computer and Nyota’s PADD.

It was a terrifying day when she stood at the Paradiso counter, and after writing her preparation instructions on the bag filled with eggplants and mustard greens, she added in her best script ‘I need to contact my grandmother’.

Many more terrifying shopping days followed.  The process was slow – the old women would not accept her full message at once, but by instalments.  Every night Nyota went home expecting Tiberious to confront her with the truth, reveal how he had sabotaged her efforts, and invent a new way to punish her.  

But the entity was fooled, in part by her own mental discipline but in part by the perfect disguise for subterfuge – a shabby little vegetable shop, where an open box of flat paper bags always stood inside the door next to a smaller open box of pencils.  And tucked away where the greying walls met at the back of the building were three unassuming, toiling women.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Nyota meets a group of women working in a vegetable shop who help people like herself, people in distress who cannot travel or use electronic communication to get in touch with friends or family.
> 
> Messages are passed on bit by bit, being written with pencil on the brown paper bags used to pack vegetables. This way, Nyota is able to get a message to her grandmother.


	27. Shameful Secrets Cannot Hide Forever, Part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *** TRIGGER WARNING *** No physical violence occurs in this chapter, but there is fear created by the threat of violence, particularly at the very end. Please skip this chapter if you wish – I will write a ‘safe’ summary of what happened at the beginning of my next posting.

After her message was sent, weeks went by, or so it seemed.  Nyota continued her daily visits to Paradiso, and placed her orders for vegetables.  And in the evening she would hurry back to the shop, hoping there would be more than food waiting for her.

But even when there was nothing but a number written on her brown paper bag, one of the old women would greet her, ask what she planned to cook, advise her to add cowpea leaves or pumpkin to her next order because the price would go down.  And these brief interactions became the only good, sane events of her life in Mombasa.

Her marriage gave her nothing but anxiety.  Emmanuel had disappeared.  His body still walked in and out of their house, slept in their bed, ate the meals she prepared.  But the mind – she did not recognise her husband’s mind.  It was stronger, but at the expense of other qualities.  It made him more active, but she dared not ask what he did when he left home every morning.

She knew he had opened a bank account, and that it had accumulated a considerable balance.  He liked to show her the statements.  Manny had the windows replaced in their bungalow, repaired the roof, bought himself a hoverbike.

“I am making enough for both of us,” said a voice that came from his mouth, but was not his.  “You don’t need to work anymore.”

And having said this many times, the man who was and was not her husband noted that she continued to hold down both her jobs.  At first he taunted, “You wanted me to bring in some money, didn’t you?”  As time went by, taunts changed to arguments, “Why don’t you quit?  Don’t you believe that I can provide a dependable income?”  Arguments changed to insinuations, that she was keeping back some of her earnings to build up a fund, so that she could leave him.

But her money still paid their rent, water rates and electricity, bought their food and other necessities.  There was nothing left after that.

Emmanuel should know this, but when his mind was changed, when he wanted her to call him Tiberious, it seemed to thrive on creating fear.  He would not need to speak; the entity could communicate directly with her thoughts, discover her triggers.

_-If I find that you are keeping anything secret … -_

It was an overcast, wet evening in November when she stopped at Paradiso to collect her order.  When she got to the counter, one of the women apologised, said they had forgotten to prepare hers and would she like to come wait in their staff room and take the weight off her feet while they chopped her vegetables?

Nyota got a lump in her throat, because the question was followed by a wink.

The staff room, in reality, was two rooms.  The first had nothing but an electric fan, a table, four chairs and a vid screen, three by two meters, that dominated one wall and played a film starring Sisonke Sol when she was young.  The screen concealed a door.  Behind that was a space with a dirt floor, stacks of dusty cardboard boxes and another table, one that looked like it had been retired from duty in the first room.

Once they were shut inside, the old woman recited the message Nyota had been waiting to receive.

“Your grandmother says Admiral Migiro travelled to Vulcan to ask what they know about your mother.  She gained no new information.  But she was given a fund to invest in your education, by way of compensation.  Your grandmother wishes to know if you need anything else?”

Nyota controlled her sorrow; did not weep.  Calmly, she asked the Paradiso woman to allow her another day to think.  On her way out, she was handed her order, which had been waiting, hidden under the service counter.

It was doubtful that the entity exercised mercy, when it allowed her to walk out of the shop undisturbed.  More likely it wanted her to be alone, surrounded by the evening’s darkness and rain, to make its threat more powerful.

 _-Go home if you dare.  If you do not value your life.-_      


	28. Nadir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *** TRIGGER FREE SUMMARY OF PREVIOUS CHAPTER *** Nyota gets a reply to the message sent to her grandmother. She learns that Admiral Migiro visited Vulcan, and came back with a fund for Uhura’s education but no new information about T’Shin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Between this chapter and the last, another two years have passed. It is now 2250. This chapter is set on Vulcan and corresponds to memories Spock recalls during Chapters 5 and 7 of “The Architecture of Emotion”. To quote from Chapter 5 – “And then the fever descended. He was days away from entry examinations for the Science Academy, days away from being unbonded.”  
> Chapter 7 has a paragraph describing what his mother did to help him after that disastrous pon farr, but to say more here would be a spoiler.
> 
> Vulcan terms used in this chapter:  
> Sa-fu - son  
> Snauk heh lipau - fork and knife

Amanda managed herself.  For as long as Lady Loma and T’Pring remained inside the Ambassadorial residence, her mental discipline ran on a supply of energy generated by the anxiety she needed to conceal.

The fever lasted seven days.  On the morning of the eighth day T’Pring emerged from Spock’s apartments; shortly after that she and her mother left the house without speaking to their hosts.  And as soon as Amanda had witnessed their hovercraft lifting off the roof, she went back inside and dismissed T’Haar, giving her paid leave.  Sarek, expecting to be banished himself, had already contacted his brother Karn and arranged alternative accommodation.

The empty house seemed a fitting metaphor.  The small sound of a stirring spoon echoed off the kitchen walls as Amanda brewed a pot of very strong _theris-masu_.  She placed it on a tray alongside two cups and entered that part of the house which had been forbidden territory, climbed the stairs to the upper storey of Spock’s apartments and turned right to enter his bedroom.

The scent of sex was powerful inside, yet the space dismayed her for being so tidy.  No items of furniture had been shifted out of place or overturned.  The dressing room door stood open, but all the robes hung correctly on their frames; the undergarments lay neatly folded within their designated compartments.  No objects were strewn across the floor to block her way, the oval rug was precisely perpendicular to the foot of her son’s bed.

Even the bed betrayed little about what took place on it.  It was typical for _pon farr_ to end with the sufferer feeling chilled.  Very likely T’Pring opened the dressing room to obtain additional bedding, and so the mattress and its remaining occupant had been completely buried under quilts, which moved up and down as Spock breathed.

“ _Sa-fu,_ ” she said softly.  She set the tea tray on the floor and knelt there herself.  She filled her own cup and drank, watched the burial mound of quilts for any other kind of motion.  She knew he was awake; his breaths came too quickly for sleep or meditation.

“Spock,” she tried again, “there is no one in the house except you and I now.  I am going downstairs to prepare food.  You may eat in the garden, if you wish.  The temperature will peak soon.”

That was as much as she could do.  She stood quickly, before her composure broke, left the room and his apartments and locked herself inside her study, where it was safe to let tears fall.

When Spock finally came downstairs, the daylight had long gone.  Amanda did not expect him to look rested, but the disinterested way he stared at the food she gave him was not right.  And he displayed an uncharacteristic neediness – when she told him she would return to her study he asked if he might accompany her.

“If you bring your lunch,” she stipulated, “and finish it.”

Vulcans did not eat quickly, even after seven days of near starvation.  Spock, however, could not convince her that his motions were anything but a charade.  He picked around the edges of the plate he brought with him and set down on one corner of her desk.  He often took the handles of his _snauk heh lipau_ without lifting the utensils, as if they were too heavy.  For her part, Amanda did her best to pretend she was busy evaluating plans for Vuhnaya Academy’s twenty-fifth campus in São José dos Campos.

They reached the limits of their tolerance for pretence at about the same time.  Amanda sighed.  Spock did not try to escape her eye contact; in fact, he seemed captured in her questioning gaze.  Though that did not help him speak his mind.

Amanda acted on a sudden, subversive urge.

“Go sit in my reading chair.”

It was the only Terran piece of furniture in the house, imported from Finland.  The upholstery was shamelessly soft and the frame contoured so that it could cradle the body and elevate the feet.  It had been a necessity when Amanda was pregnant.  Now its value was mainly sentimental, but she could see another use for it.

Spock not only obeyed, but allowed her to adjust the seat so that he reclined.  Then he watched while she opened up the household security system on her workstation.  The software recognised her face and opened the lock to the safe under her desk.  He watched her pull out another, smaller safe which was opened by a key that she had hidden underneath Eglantine, her potted miniature rose.

Amanda showed him the contents of the smaller safe, and felt certain it was the first time he had seen a wrapped bar of chocolate.

It was the first time she had ever used a knife and fork to eat it.  She fed Spock carefully, observing and regulating his intoxication.  It was painful to listen to him lose inhibition and tell her secrets – the words spilled out as though they had finally made him sick.  Yet it was worth it to be allowed to comfort him, to hold him and cry on his shoulder while he cried on hers.  


	29. A Conversation With the Wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place perhaps three weeks after the previous one – Spock is waiting for the results of his Vulcan Science Academy entrance exams, and considering his future. He returns to the location of his kahs-wan because he achieved a helpful clarity of thought there, as he told T’Pring in Chapter 14. He also looks back on that experience in Chapter 11 of “A Tale of Two Tyrants” – see the section that begins, “Spock knew a place he could go”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vulcan terms used in this chapter:
> 
> lara: a Vulcan species of bird

The rock formations Spock chose for shelter during his _kahs-wan_ had been a two day journey from home on foot.  Travelling by hoverbike covered the same distance in one tenth of the time.  Technology, however, did not eliminate the need for caution in a place like Vulcan’s Forge.  Before landing, Spock banked low and hovered near the rockface, scanning the caves at ground level for their interior configuration, stability, signs of life.  He knew the wind direction, and appraised three different locations to see where sand would deposit itself in the event of a storm. Then he chose a parking spot.

While he climbed up and through the network of passages inside the rock, crawl spaces created by centuries of wind erosion, his mind attempted a corresponding ascent.  His examinations were over.  Because of the fever, his teachers were prepared to grant a deferral, but Spock refused the additional time.  Whether this adversely affected his grades, left him short of the Science Academy's acceptance threshold, he did not yet know.

He needed to rise above that concern.  He reached the place in his chosen approach where the angle of the tunnel floor banked up seventy-six percent and he had to climb.  The footholds remained from four years ago, hacked out of the sandstone by his younger hands.  A good decision, which combined with many other good decisions preserved him, and seemed to invalidate every undisguised remark or insinuation directed at him which questioned the value of his existence.  While many Vulcans might believe he was better off dead, Vulcan itself honoured his efforts and let him live.

At the top of the climb there was a ledge, and at the back of that ledge a cavity of space in the rock.  Spock crawled inside and lay down.

The dark confines of that niche shrank the world, shrank all the matters which loomed large.  Five days ago he had applied to Starfleet.  His father, had he known how quickly Spock went from the idea to the action, would call it something other than a logical decision.  Spock received a response that morning, uploaded to his study workstation, from the Dean of Students in San Francisco.  It invited him to arrange a subspace video link for an interview.

Instead of responding, he packed a few supplies and rode into the desert.

Deep inside the rock, huddled in its shadows, the detail of minute objects became more arresting.  Spock remembered how many different shades of colour and particle sizes he observed in grains of sand.  Passing invertebrates were esteemed for their hardy, economical physiology.  After many hours, with few sounds except his own expelled breath, the whisper of the constantly moving desert air acquired an almost conversational cadence.  It seemed to ask what he had come there to achieve.

He told it -- he wanted to find his place.  In the same way he had found safe shelter in Vulcan’s Forge, he wanted to make another decision that would save him, leave him in a place of peace and not add to the struggle of being alone, of being neither Vulcan nor human.

He remained in the rock overnight, wide awake, hoping for that decision.

Dawn announced itself because the nesting pairs of _lara_ did their hunting before star rise; their high pitched calls carried.  Spock crawled out from the wall cavity and walked along a different tunnel, one which led into the open air on the summit of the rock formation.  He sat there and resumed meditation.  With his inner eyelids closed, he remained in trance while the sun came over the horizon and climbed thirty-seven degrees higher.  The _lara_ took refuge from the increased heat.

At the turning point of the day, when the starlight was directly overhead, Spock returned to a mundane level of consciousness.  There was concern seeping through from the psi bond with his mother; she wanted assurance that he was safe.  He gave her this, and told her to expect him home for the evening meal.

Then he opened his eyes, stood up, surveyed the surrounding desert.  It looked as empty as his mind.  It was only as he picked his way down from the summit, a slow descent, that he spotted an airborne object.  It was travelling over the Forge from the north.  As it drew nearer, the profile and jet configuration identified it as a twenty-second century Federation hoverped, possibly Nomad class. 

Spock stayed still to watch as it passed overhead and continued south.  Protective clothing and headgear made it impossible to positively identify the two passengers as T’Pring and Stonn, but he gave his assumption an eighty-four point nine percent chance of being correct.  He continued his descent.  No sorrow or anger was generated by the thought of them both, together now.  Only some envy, because they had found that place which still eluded him.    


	30. Need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A year has passed – the date is now 2251. Spock has left Vulcan to study at Starfleet Academy. It is his father’s turn to deal with his own blood fever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vulcan terms used in this chapter:
> 
> Hmoi’neks - collar

Sarek picked up his grapefruit spoon for a sixth time.  During the previous five attempts, the serrated edge proved a distraction.  And now also – he pressed the points into the heel of his other hand until they left marks. 

Amanda sat across the table, watching. 

 _No,_ he told her through their bond, _it is not yet time._

And to demonstrate, he directed the hand holding the spoon to the bowl which contained half a red grapefruit and plunged it purposefully into the flesh.  He used the serrated edge as it was meant to be used, sawed neatly through the pith and membranous layer of a single segment and lifted the piece free, held it up to show her.

She smiled.  Her own breakfast had been eaten, and her hands moved under the table where he could no longer see them, because they also became a distraction.

She brought back these fruits from their last visit to Starfleet Headquarters in San Francisco.  He had asked her to purchase them, admitted to a great fondness for the bittersweet taste.  That was when they realised it was paramount to return to Vulcan quickly, by private shuttle, before his symptoms grew worse.

He continued to work from home, Amanda assisting so that he could clear his diary of conflicting commitments.  Within a few days the less subtle signs of _pon farr_ began: insomnia, irritability, loss of appetite.  Terran citrus fruit lost its appeal.  Sarek put the spoonful of grapefruit in his mouth but the juice no longer had taste.  He grimaced, spat it out and saw the acid stain it left across the white _hmoi’neks_ of his robe.

“This is unacceptable,” he snapped.

***

Amanda agreed.  Forbearance was the only treatment at this stage of the illness.  Sarek might tip over into the volcanic crater of need that was gradually heating up their bond.  Or he might deny his condition another day or two, blame everything else.

“Perhaps the grapefruit is past its best,” she said. 

He started to play with the spoon again, rubbing the bowl with the pad of his thumb. 

“Illogical,” he replied.  “You ate the other half.”

The force of his grip was bending the utensil at its neck, and his skin on his thumb had turned a darker shade of green, along with his throat and the tips of his ears.

“My taste receptors are not as sensitive as yours,” she offered the excuse.  Through the bond she felt him linger over the idea of taste receptors, and what he truly wanted to eat.  For an instant his pupils dilated.  Then they returned to normal.  He put the spoon back on the table, unsettled by the blatant sexual nature of what he had been doing with it.

In her lap, Amanda’s PADD illuminated, brought up the registration of an incoming transmission to the workstation in Sarek’s office.  Odd, she thought.  Calls to the consular number were temporarily diverted to the diplomatic office in the Anonak district.  And she had changed the connection tone on their private channel to a pitch of specified frequency, which anyone would understand as soon as they heard it and terminate their call.

But that was not happening.  The only non-Vulcan who knew this number was her brother Andrew, and he had been told without being told, so to speak.  Perhaps Sarek had entrusted another person?

Asking would almost certainly be taken as interrogation, and make him argue.  Keeping her voice soft and casual, she said, “Someone wishes to speak with us, _adun.”_

“Who?”

She could not detect any emotion in his mind, so she replied, “I do not recognise the identifier.”

He asked to be shown the PADD and she laid it on the table.  His gaze did not follow her hands as they moved away from the device and he said without hesitation, “Admiral Migiro.”

“Shall I speak with her,” Amanda suggested, “and arrange another time for the call?”

Encouraging though it was that his mood and memory were stable, she felt caution would be the better option. 

But he stood up from the table.

“I will conduct the conversation in my office,” he said, and walked out of the breakfast room.

***

No doubt his _aduna_ was concerned about the grapefruit juice stain on his robe.  A Vulcan senior diplomat must present a dignified appearance.  Sarek assured Amanda, as they walked together to his office, that he would give Levina Migiro an audio channel only.

“Admiral,” he greeted her, once the connection was made.

“Ambassador Sarek.”

As they exchanged opening pleasantries, he watched Amanda take the precaution of opening the elevator and setting her PADD on the floor inside.

“My call concerns Nyota Uhura,” the Admiral explained.  The sound of that name caused residual guilt and anxiety to reassert themselves, emotions concerning Spock.  It was a good test of his mental stability to have to deal with these again.

Amanda, meanwhile, came and stood beside him.

“I am sorry to say that things have not gone well for her,” the Admiral continued.  “She has left her husband and returned to Dar-es-Salaam.  For her safety, she is temporarily residing here at Starfleet headquarters.”

Sarek’s anxiety was suddenly bolstered, and this additional feeling was more difficult to quantify.  It seemed to be less individual and more collective, a product of his ancient genetic inheritance.

But it did not disturb his composure.  “May I ask the reason for your precaution?”

He noted that Amanda’s head turned and she was watching him.

“I understand the marital relationship became abusive, and on more than one occasion the husband put his wife in physical danger.”

Now Amanda turned to face him.  It meant he had betrayed himself without begin aware of it; the hideous Terran contradiction of a male who would not kill to protect his mate but become her killer instead did cause him a number of reactions whenever he was reminded of it.  And now was an unfortunate time to be reminded.

His right hand, without his permission, reached out and rested its first two fingers under Amanda’s chin.  And he listened as she greeted the Admiral herself, and asked what Nyota planned to do next.

“She wishes to continue her education,” Levina Migiro replied.

Immediately Sarek had a desire.

“Have her enrolled at the Academy,” he said.  It did not matter which campus.  He would urge Spock to transfer, or have Nyota Uhura moved, bring them together somehow.  More emotions added themselves to those he already had to manage.  If he could be satisfied with anything, it was that he could still assess the situation and admit that his logic was, at best, lagging.

Amanda still had control over her body’s movements, and so it was a choice that her right hand reached out and rested its two fingers against his lips.

“That was our first suggestion,” the Admiral replied.  “But Nyota does not feel ready, not emotionally, for the demands of Academy life.  She would prefer some form of distance learning.  Would the Vulcan High Council be prepared to pay for the fees under the terms of their funding agreement?”

No, Sarek thought, no.  It must be the Academy, must.  Spock must see her, must find what he needed because the need … the need …,

He wanted to tell the Admiral, but he had taken Amanda’s fingers inside his mouth as far as they could be taken without swallowing her.  Her taste could not be described, and the need …,

As if from a long distance, he heard his wife speaking.

“Do whatever you think best for Nyota, Admiral.  The agreement puts no restriction on the learning method.”

While the Admiral expressed gratitude, so did Sarek, by running his right hand down the soft length of Amanda’s throat and opening the collar fastening of her meditation robe, worn because it was the easiest garment to remove.

The need.  Spock had felt it, the need to touch and kiss.  Did he prefer human kisses?  Sarek leaned forward, to put himself closer to Amanda’s mouth.  She tipped back her head and let him kiss her neck instead.

The vibration of her vocal chords felt exquisite against his soft palette.

***

“Admiral,” Amanda hoped the faint growl Sarek made as he sucked a mark into her neck would not transmit well.  “It is our turn to be sorry.  We have a prior engagement which cannot be delayed --,”

Sarek had opened all the fastenings down the front of her robe, and moved his mouth from her throat to her right breast.  She swallowed, inhaled and exhaled to see how unsteady she might sound.

“May I contact you again?” she asked.

No date offered.  She would write the Admiral a message the next time Sarek fell into delirious sleep, and buy them both the time they needed. 


	31. There Are Two Vulcan Translators on Spacedock One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story moves to the year 2253. Spock has just graduated from Starfleet Academy. Nyota Uhura is working on Spacedock One under an assumed name -- a precaution Starfleet have taken to keep her whereabouts secret from her estranged husband. See "The Architecture of Emotion", the chapter titled "Fish in a Desert Sea" for Nyota's bit of backstory. Also see the first chapter of "A Tale of Two Tyrants", where Spock mentions his first assignment after graduation.

Hope Damasi rode the pinion transit from the Operation Services quarter to Dock Seven.  On arrival, she took a moment to check the assignment notes on her PADD.  The exact location had been pending confirmation.  She only knew it would be somewhere along this long dock corridor whose conference rooms had been named after the moons of Uranus, in alphabetical order.  The PADD told her to report to Umbriel, the last stop before the airlock connected the station with the USS Titan.

Nyota Uhura tapped the PADD display with a fingernail.  She was nervous, but in a good way.

She set off at a march, to get her heart rate up, work off some of the tension.  With a stride length of only 0.65 meters, it took one thousand, two hundred and eighteen steps along the corridor to reach the Trinculo room.  Hope stopped there, let her breathing get back to normal and then, more relaxed, made the last part of the journey at a gentle pace.

Outside the Umbriel, Security portal scanned her head to toe, confirmed the identity Starfleet Africa had created two years ago to help Nyota Uhura disappear.

But in spite the recognition, the portal would not open the doors.  “Awaiting Authorisation from Occupier”, the readout said. 

Hope clasped her PADD behind her back and waited.  And waited.  It became difficult, after a while, to resist watching the portal chronometer counting the minutes, because minutes did pass.  It wasn’t unusual to be kept waiting if there were confidential discussions in progress, information to be cleared off the tables or display screens.  But Nyota had never known it to take this long.

After nine minutes and thirty-nine seconds, an officer in Science blues came through Dock Seven airlock and approached.  He accessed Security portal for Umbriel just as she had, was scanned and also asked to wait.

“Been here long?” he asked.

Hope nodded.

He managed a minute and a half before asking the portal to open a comms channel.  Voice recognition cleared him, and he spoke into the microphone.

“Admiral, hate to interrupt, but it’s getting crowded out here.”

Nyota smiled within, while Hope kept a straight face.

The comms channel became two-way.  “Commander Omar, this is the Admiral.  You may enter on your own.”

The Commander glanced back at the young woman he had just met with a look that said, ‘I can reason with her’.

“Sir,” he continued, “with due respect, it looks like you’ve kept …,”

He glanced back again, to read Hope’s name badge.

“You’ve kept Translator Damasi standing here a considerable time.”

“Translator?”

The voice asking the question was not the Admiral.  The comms channel suddenly closed.  Commander Omar frowned and was on the verge of exclamation, when just as suddenly the Umbriel doors parted.

A Denobulan female stood near the entrance, operating the security portal from the other side.

“You won’t need a spacedock translator, Admiral,” she said to Xiang, who sat at the back of the conference room.  “We have a native Vulcan speaker on board.”

“We do?” the Admiral asked.  Commander Omar went inside.  Nyota Uhura hesitated.

“We do,” the Commander confirmed.

And so it ended before it began.  The Admiral was apologetic.  Translator Hope Damasi was gracious and assured Xiang it had been no trouble.  She wished them all a successful mission and took her leave.

Nyota Uhura was reluctant to walk away from the closed doors of the Umbriel room.  Why?  It would only have been a training mission, full of drills and procedural minutae.  Wouldn't last more than a month, probably …,

Her fingernail was tapping the PADD again.

For the first time in two years, she wanted to remove the badge with her assumed identity and stop hiding.  Two years of watching starships come and go, watching hundreds of Starfleet uniforms, each one a person with that same obsession that drove both her parents to spend their lives in space.  Hope was the name she had chosen because she hoped all this exposure to space travel might kindle something, if it was going to be kindled at all.

And it had.  For the first time since she had escaped hell, Nyota felt a desire.  Losing this assignment only made it stronger.

She stayed long enough to check what time it would be in Dar-es-Salaam.  And then she marched back to Operation Services.

***

“Omar,” Xiang said, once the translator had gone, “who is our native speaker?”

“New San Francisco graduate,” the Commander replied.  “Son of the Vulcan ambassador, no less.”

“I don’t recall seeing a Vulcan at last night’s crew reception.”

Omar smiled conspiratorially at Sergeant Trevix.  Trevix rolled her eyes.

“Admiral,” the Denobulan said, “I managed to persuade Lieutenant Spock to attend the reception, and did my level best to help him _mingle._ But even my social skills were challenged.  He kept insisting his time would be better spent preparing for the mission, so I gave in and let him leave.”

“Well,” Xiang replied, “if he wants work, we can give him work.  Omar, order him to report here immediately.”


	32. Current Which Ran Strongest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The year is now 2256. Spock is serving on board the USS Farragut in deep space. It is only six years since his first, untimely pon farr and yet the symptoms begin again. The Vulcan High Council are forced to give Christine Chapel, CMO of the Farragut, details about the condition, something they have never revealed to off-worlders before. They are also shocked to learn that Doctor Chapel chose to stand in for the bondmate Spock did not have.  
> The Council decide they must take drastic steps to prevent the same thing happening again. See Chapter 11 of "The Architecture of Emotion" for all details, but in summary:  
> 1\. Sarek is told he must find a Vulcan bondmate for Spock or resign his position as Ambassador.  
> 2\. Certain council members wanted the punishment to be greater -- they wanted to dissolve the bond between Sarek and Amanda Grayson, and revoke Amanda's right to live on Vulcan.  
> 3\. Amanda is saved because T'Pau intervenes

Here again, Amanda thought.

She dismissed the priestess who had kindly provided a source of light and her sense of direction, crucial to finding the right channel that would lead to the heart of Mount Seleya, back to the secret chamber where a human teacher spent her first night as the Vulcan Ambassador’s wife.  The acolyte of T’Pau closed the door quietly as she left.

Amanda did not remove either her cloak or sash or boots.  Until she knew the decisions that were being made about her, the best thing was to remain ready.

She sat down on the bed.  The stubborn fury that possessed her a few hours ago, that insisted she would not be forced out of her own home by some vaguely worded order from the High Council, that she would not be taken anywhere until she had spoken with her husband, that she could not sleep until she understood every why and wherefore … that fury had used a lot of energy.  She had the protection of T’Pau here.  She was safe. 

Whether she could get any sleep – but it didn’t matter.  She had no other way to pass the time, no idea how much time might pass.  A few minutes were needed to wrap the soles of her boots, pull back the beautiful layers of handwoven covers and decide how many to keep for warmth.  And then the patterns of the ones she chose warranted closer examination, once she was lying down.  The weft appeared to be made from braided threads, which were themselves braided into ribbons and the ribbons braided also.

It was a surprise to wake up.  She still had the cover clutched in her hands and Sarek bent low over her pillow.  No words passed through their bond, or emotions as such.  She never had known how to describe that underlying current which ran strongest when they were under threat.

Amanda let go of the covers.  Before she could raise her arms he had lifted her into his embrace.

She could not separate out all her different questions, so simply asked, “What?”

“Spock,” he replied, but only after he sensed that the length of his silence concerned her.

The worst possibility suggested itself, a black hole within the bond, an explanation for the lapse in her son's regular messages.

“No,” Sarek stopped her before she cried out.

Then he explained, as much as he knew.  It had not been the worst possibility.  It came just short of that.

“But it is too early,” she protested.

“The symptoms, as they were reported, could not have been anything else.”

New pain to process – the thought of Spock light years away, alone when no Vulcan should be.  More questions.

“How?”

Through the bond, Sarek asked for one indulgence – that she would not make him say it.  So she guessed.

“Someone … he must have had someone.”

Yet if that were true, it would have been a relief to them both.  Her face was pressed against Sarek’s jaw, where his muscles were held tight.

“Did --,”

But Amanda lost courage too. 

“No,” Sarek said.

She accepted that.  Between the understanding that Spock did not have a bondmate to assist with his second _pon farr_ , and the assurance that he did not get what he needed by force, there was a gap.  Amanda decided to cross it with her eyes shut.

“Tell me what the Council want,” she said.

“What they do _not_ want,” Sarek replied, “is any further introduction of Vulcan DNA into the human gene pool.”

“But Spock cannot --,” she protested.

“Improbable but not impossible,” her husband countered.  “The Council require me to secure him a Vulcan bondmate, or resign my position as Ambassador.”

“How will we do that?  It was difficult enough when he was a boy.”

“ _Ashayam,_ precise attention to detail may assist us in this situation.  The Council’s order does not apply to you.”

She nearly scoffed.  T’Pau had seen the need to hide her away – her existence meant nothing to the Vulcan government.  Yet the bond was telling her that her husband was deadly serious.  The meaning of his words did not sink in quickly.  Just when she thought she might understand, she couldn’t believe it and sought validation.

“You want me … you want us to work against each other?”

“Not necessarily.”

“Help me, Sarek.”

“I will commit myself to obtain a Vulcan wife for our son.  You will commit to getting him nothing less than a bond as strong as ours.  Should these endeavours bring us into opposition, I am certain you will relish the contest.”


	33. What Never Happened

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still 2256. In Chapter 38 of "Night is Not Yours Alone", Christopher Pike tells Spock the story of how Amanda Grayson managed to track him down in Yorktown where he was meant to be attending a xenocultural refresher, when his whereabouts were not public knowledge. This chapter reveals more about that conversation.

“Captain Pike.”

The Vulcan ambassador's wife did not wait for an invitation to enter.  She stepped past Chris and let herself into his apartment while he was still wondering how she got through the security shields protecting the sixty-seventh floor or managed to find out the tower _had_ a sixty-seventh floor.

And how had she known he was on Yorktown?

Shut the door, he told himself.  Don't make anything of it.  That's what he had learned to do on the rare occasions Spock broke rules, because each time there had been a reason.  A damn good reason.

Maybe he was about to understand where his First Officer got his predilection for carefully calculated subversion.

Spock's mother had carried on down the hall and into the lounge.  Chris found her standing near the fireplace simulation. 

“Lady Amanda,” he hoped his nonchalance would sound convincing.  “I always travel with my own supply of Kenyan Arabica and a nifty aeropressure appliance.  May I brew you a cup?”

She had not favoured him with eye contact yet.  Her gaze was travelling, interested in the walls, pausing at the places where Starfleet set in art installations.

“Is there surveillance?” she asked.

He pointed out the scanners, embedded in the ceiling near the lights.

“They activate automatically when I sleep.  Otherwise...,” he rolled back the sleeve of his jacket and unclasped the wristband, “I can control them with this.”

He showed her the menu selections before handing her the device. 

“Thank you,” she said, making her choices.  “Before I say more, I need your agreement that this conversation never happened.”

Well, he thought, a little risk was always better than coffee.  He felt his eyes open wider.

“Is that exactly what you want?” he asked.  “Or do you mean I should recall that it happened, act in whatever way you would like me to act as a result of what we discuss, but not reveal the details to anyone else until …,”

He paused, because he’d succeeded in making Spock’s mother smile.

“Should you outlive me, Captain, feel free to share.  Otherwise …,”

Her turn to pause.

“I would prefer tea,” she added.

“Tea you shall have.”

She followed him into the kitchen – Chris considered the room a ridiculous amount of space and equipment to allocate a visiting senior officer, who would be unlikely to do anything more than replicate food.  He searched the menu for the varieties Amanda suggested, specified that the infusion be served in a pot and the pot on a tray with two cups.

“Of course,” she said, as if it were nothing, “my husband and I are aware of what recently happened to our son on board the Farragut.”

Of course, Chris replied in his thoughts.  You're aware, and you're gauging my reaction, which is why I’m going to carry this tray out of the kitchen without speaking, without so much as twitching an eyebrow.

That was not so challenging as maintaining the appearance of calm under scrutiny.  The lounge had a generous conversation area, seating for twelve around a low table.  Chris could see the sense in that.  He picked a spot to set down the tray and the Ambassador’s wife seated herself directly opposite.   She watched him stir the pot and pour.

She did not catch him out.  He felt certain of that.

So why did she sigh?

“Lady?”

“Spock once told me,” she said, “that his commanding officer was a man with a sincere desire to understand his non-Terran crew.”

Chris accepted the compliment with a tilt of his head.

“That’s why I’m attending this refresher,” he said. 

“Spock does not pay compliments often, Captain.”

“I’m aware.”

“So I do not understand.  Your reaction suggests his symptoms did not trouble you.”

He passed her teacup across the table wearing a frown.  Where was she taking this?  If he admitted that it had worried him out of several nights’ sleep and killed his appetite, so that Nurse Evans had to follow him around with a hypo just to keep him functioning, or that he had to invent interruptions during his subspace conversations with the Vulcan High Council to keep himself from screaming at the various petty officials who feigned ignorance of anything called ‘blood fever’ and delayed his access to their medical expertise with flimsy claims that they needed to make extra checks and verify his identity –-

No Starfleet captain should admit to that kind of vulnerability.

“On the contrary,” he said, “if there is any record of my communications with your government during the incident --,”

“Incident?”

Lady Amanda stood up.

“If he is nothing more than an ‘incident’ to you, Captain, I --,”

“--Now hold on--,”

“—best not waste any more of your –,”

“I said hold on!”

He stood too.  And he watched the expression change on her face to one of … interest.  His anger interested her.  If this was some kind of test, be damned if he knew how to pass it. 

“Please,” he said, “please sit.  Let me have another chance.”

Eventually, she sat.  Chris also took extra time to adjust his posture with the certainty that he would be in for a long meeting.  He leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees and folded his hands together.

“Spock once told me that his mother had never been fully accepted as a citizen of Vulcan, but that she did not cease to fight for her rightful status.”

Oh, that impressed her.  Yes, Chris thought, consider.  Your son trusted me enough to say that.

Lady Amanda lifted her cup and drank, placed it back on the table.

“Why didn’t you contact myself or Ambassador Sarek about Spock’s symptoms?” she asked.

“He _repeatedly_ insisted you must never know.”

A blink that kept her eyes closed a fraction of a second too long – Chris knew that was feeling.  He would not attack that weakness in Lady Amanda’s armour, but he would make it a talking point.

“I did not comply happily,” Chris told her, “because it made no sense.  You were the person he wanted informed in the event of serious injury or … worse.”

Her long blink was quickly followed by several rapid ones, and she changed the angle of her gaze.

“And yet I was forbidden to tell you about this mystery ailment that was slowly killing him.  And I was tempted, Lady Amanda.  When his symptoms became so severe we had to lock him in the brig, when he couldn’t talk to us, when my chief medical officer was preparing herself to enter that cell, unaccompanied, unprotected and uninformed, taking a long shot last chance so that I could say with clear conscience that we had done everything we could …,”

The Ambassador’s wife daubed one eye with the corner of her sash.  And Chris sat back against the sofa cushions and pretended his cup of tea had an important message written at the bottom.  If he’d had his wristband, he could have asked the apartment computer to do some pointless adjustment to the fireplace simulation or play some ambient noise so his guest could cry more audibly and not lose face.

He glanced up after he heard her take a long breath out, watched her draw up her head and shoulders and still every restless muscle in her face.  And then the illumination in her eyes, which were so much like her son’s, did not go out altogether but subdued.

“He still needs your help,” she said.  


	34. Meanwhile, in the Apartment Next Door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Same year, same time -- if Christopher Pike wonders how Amanda has access to the secret sixty-seventh floor of his building, it is because she and Sarek are just next door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vulcan words used in this chapter:
> 
> Vulkanfi - what the Vulcan home world is called in their language. First spoken by T'Pol on Star Trek Enterprise, in the episode "Home".

Alderman Ba-tak T’Kehr Govann had hesitated to accept the written subspace invitation.  The sender had not given their name.

He was persuaded by his bondmate Mixa.  She pointed out that the destination coordinates corresponded to a location somewhere in Yorktown City Twelve, which had the highest security levels.  And she believed her Betazoid telepathy could sense that whoever wanted to see her husband also had misgivings about the visit, which put Govann at an advantage.

She accompanied him to the nearest public transporter pod in Shi Latva Square, and said she would wait for him on one of the nearby benches.

Govann’s molecules disassembled and then reassembled in near darkness.  The only light came from the transport pad underfoot and the control console directly ahead.  Govann had not allowed himself to speculate on the identity of the person he would meet.  It could be one of numerous individuals. The Sharush Vulcan community on Yorktown had support on the home world from those who desired a different way of life, one more open to the wisdom of other species.  Personal obligations made it difficult for these sympathisers to leave _Vulkanfi_ and resettle, but circumstances often changed.     

The Vulcan who stood behind the illuminated panel was not one of these.

Doubtless that explained why no greeting was offered.  Ambassador Sarek turned away from the controls and walked through doors which opened instantly behind him to reveal a larger interior space.

Govann followed.  Beyond the transporter room was a meeting area – the low table top was transparent and appeared to be embedded with the pre-Warp Terran metal discs which once functioned as currency.  The chairs reclined the back twelve degrees from the perpendicular, and ‘busy’ was the Standard term he believed appropriate to describe the pattern on the upholstery.  It was a safe conclusion that the place did not belong to the Ambassador or his government.

And there were no windows.  As Sarek chose a seat and inclined his head to indicate that Govann should do the same, the Alderman guessed that he was somewhere deep within Yorktown’s helix structure.  He had heard that such places existed in City Twelve.

Silence made the friction and crush of their clothing seem more pronounced.  Govann took care with his appearance -- several decades spent with Mixa’s expressive gestures meant that he did not often conceal his hands.  He did so now.

“Alderman,” Sarek began, “I understand the Sharush district is expanding.”

Govann decided to use the advantage his bondmate assured him he had, and make their meeting difficult.

“At what point, and for what reason, did the Vulcan High Council decide that our existence warranted attention at all, let alone study?”

Sarek took no time to consider his answer.

“Whatever the position of my government concerning Sharush, I have always maintained a personal interest in your community.”

The words caused Govann to reconsider his approach.  Perhaps Sarek was not here in his official capacity.  That possibility raised too many questions to ponder while attempting conversation.

“Then to clarify,” Govann replied, “we occupy the same surface area in City Nine, but have received permission to modify two residential towers with additional floors.”

“May I ask whether the need comes from new migrants or growth within the existing population?”

Caution held back details.  “Both,” Govann answered. 

No Vulcan took lightly a decision to permanently leave the home world.  It was an unforgiveable disgrace to declare oneself _v’tosh katur_ , or seek Romulan citizenship.  To join the clans of Menos or Jossen was regarded the same way – psi bonds would be cut and one’s very existence denied.  There were other ways to emigrate, with consequences that varied in severity.  Coming to Sharush community was one of these.  The late Starfleet Admiral Jonathan Archer once famously referred to them as “Surak agnostics”.  Perhaps this perception of mild questioning, rather than aggressive rejection, was the reason they were not entirely ostracised. 

But they were not diplomatically recognised.  Alderman Govann knew the Ambassador only because Yorktown hosted the most prestigious xenocultural forums, at which Sarek often spoke.

“I invited you here,” Sarek said, “to enquire whether you had unbonded females.”

Again, Govann needed to reconsider.  Unbonded females?  The home world was not short of such.  The situation, whatever it was, could not be guessed.  He would conduct himself as if this were an item of everyday business, until the critical information came out.  

“We do,” the Alderman replied.  “Were you a community member, you could negotiate directly with the females or their families.  But outsiders must be vetted.  That is my responsibility.”

“This vetting – what processes are involved?”

“A medical and psychological examination of the outsider from our own professionals, submission of paternal and maternal genealogical records, a number of interviews including a meeting with the prospective female.  An offer or rejection would follow.”

“Understood,” Sarek said.

“I should stress, Ambassador, since I do not know the details yet, that it is highly unlikely any of our females would agree to live on _Vulkanfi_.”

“I do not anticipate this will be an issue.”

A pause occurred, duration eighteen point seven seconds but Mixa would call it one of those easily misperceived as longer. 

“I presume,” Govann said, “since you have not named the one who seeks a female, that you are not at liberty to disclose their identity.”

Another pause, duration twenty-four point three seconds.  Then the Ambassador inclined his head, as if he could hear a sound from his left.

“I am asking on behalf of my son.”  Sarek said at last.  “My son … Sybok.”


	35. Meanwhile In the Apartment Next Door, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wrapping up these secret meetings in Yorktown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vulcan terms used in this chapter
> 
> Kispek Jarok – the name of one of the towers in Sharush Community which is being renovated  
> Ni’hin – bar or tavern

Govann was beamed back to the pod in Shi Latva Square two hours and nine minutes after he left.  Mixa sat waiting on the bench, as she had promised.  A passerby would think, since she faced the ongoing building work at _Kispek Jarok_ , that this held her attention.  More likely she was attempting a Vulcan disregard for her own perturbation because her husband’s mind, normally open to her, had been closed for the duration of his meeting with Ambassador Sarek. 

Govann came up behind her and offered _ozh’esta_ by placing his first two fingers against her right cheekbone.  The relief of connection was enough to end Mixa’s façade.  She made an open mouthed sound, covered his kiss with her own and stood. 

Govann made their journey home longer by diverting along Perimeter 109 and coming back through the Alpha Sculpture Array.  They held hands, concealed by long, flared sleeves.  Their bond displayed his thoughts like works of art and he allowed Mixa’s mind to circle them, study them.  They communed like this until they reached the Bajoran installation, which had a decorative and a practical function.  The long, coiling structure contained regular indentations with seating.  Beverages could be purchased from the _ni’hin_ at the widest end of the sculpture, and consumed while examining the work in closer detail.    

Mixa asked for a voodai halved with kava juice.  Their table protected her from the sun, exposed him.  In this way their preferences were both accommodated.  

 _Why would the Ambassador lie?_  she asked telepathically. 

 _I have no logical explanation._  

 _But if he enquires about a wife for Sybok, surely the two of them have talked.  Surely he knows that Sybok lived here and chose to leave._

_Perhaps the son has lied to the father._

_But why?  Sybok despised Sharush – he said you only flattered yourself that the Vulcans here were different from others._

Govann had no answer.  The conversation had been a curious one.  There was no aspect of community life that Sarek had not wanted to understand.  What economic contribution did they make to City Nine, and in which business sectors?  What was their involvement with other communities?  Did they have sufficient teaching resources to provide their children with education?  Did they have a policy or quota for mixed species partnerships?  What was the precise nature of their approach to Surak’s teachings?  Where and how did they find intellectual stimulation? 

One question was too delicate to answer: did they experience any ‘difficulties’ from the High Council as a result of emigration from the home world? 

Govann had paused long enough for Sarek to guess the reason.  The Ambassador apologised and withdrew the enquiry, but there was an answer he could deduce from the silence. 

*** 

Chris took the tea things back to the kitchen, set them on the replicator pad, asked the device to break down the molecules and store them for another time.  The breakfast bar had its own PADD set into the counter top.  He asked it what the current time was in San Francisco. 

Impressive woman, Spock’s mother.  Whether or not he could help her was a different question, but she must know what he was up against.  She must know what a stubborn son she had raised. 

The PADD told him it was eleven hundred hours, thirteen minutes.  Melita Santiago would almost certainly be in a meeting.  Chris requested a subspace channel to Starfleet Academy Deans’ Office using his priority code. 

Ensign Dre answered the call. 

“I’m fine, thank you, Tiavro,” Chris replied.  He found it amusing that a Betazoid should follow Terran custom and ask how he was.  “You should tell me,” was how he wanted to respond. 

But what he went on to say was, “If the Dean of Faculty has time today, I’d like to explore whether a teaching placement could be found for one of my crew.”

 ***  

Amanda left Captain Pike’s apartment and walked right past the door to their own.  She continued along the corridor of the sixty-seventh floor (who had decided it was a clever idea to refer to the basement level of a sixty-six storey tower that way?)  She turned a corner, entered the transporter niche, used her own sub-cutaneous chip to clear security and beam up to the surface level foyer. 

Once outside the building, she took a stroll around the pool near Cornwallis Transport Hub.  The bottom of the reservoir was transparent; below it small ships could be seen coming in to dock.  She wasted as much time as Sarek wished.  He gave her indication through their bond when it was best to return. 

She used a public transporter pod to enter their special coordinates.  Her chip was scanned again and then she was beamed onto the pad inside their apartment. 

In accordance with the rules of their contest, (rules she and Sarek hastily agreed before leaving Vulcan), neither of them would probe each other’s thoughts or ask about the business of finding Spock a bondmate.  Indirect subjects -- what they would do if the High Council carried out the threat to end their own bond or refuse to allow Amanda to return – this was permitted but painful.  They used as few words as possible. 

“Did you … satisfy your curiosity about the Sharush community?” she asked as she followed her husband out of the transporter room, passing the hideous furniture (twenty-second century Terran Sentimentalism – a style she could not stand) inside the secure meeting area. 

Sarek activated the concealed entrance leading to their private accommodation. 

“What I learned was encouraging,” he replied. 

The décor on the other side was much better.  They sat down side by side at the dining table.

“Encouraging enough for you to …,” 

She did not want to use the word ‘defect’.  It was horrible to have to consider the possibility of living anywhere else.  They had served the Vulcan home world so well, for so long.  Amanda hoped that might make up for those times they challenged the tolerance of conservative minds on the High Council. 

Sarek made no remark about her unfinished sentence. 

“I am reminded of the way Spock responded to a statement from Councillor V’lanev, when it was discovered that our son had applied to Starfleet.  He said, ‘ _it was logical to cultivate multiple options’.”_


	36. Savid's Funeral

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The year is 2257. Sarek and Amanda have been permitted to return to Vulcan in order to attend the memorial service for Sarek’s nephew Savid. Savid died from a disease whose symptoms would have been recognised and cured, had he been on his home world. But he was travelling aboard a Starfleet vessel, assisting with an investigation, and medical personnel there did not know enough to treat the condition in time.
> 
> Sarek will tell Spock about this in Chapter 3 of “The Architecture of Emotion”. He will, of course, have an ulterior motive. The High Council continue to restrict his Ambassadorial duties because he has not secured a Vulcan bondmate for his son.

“Don’t be afraid,” Amanda told the Starfleet sergeant.

“What will they do,” Axelsson asked, “will they try to pull it out of me?”

“Not at this stage.”

“Later?”

Amanda glanced behind her.  Through their bond, Sarek was expressing his concern, because she had not yet escorted Snorri Axelsson outside, and the time was drawing near.

“I doubt they will make any decision quickly,” she said.

The Sergeant cleared his throat, let his eyes open wide and return to normal.  Then once more, he clasped his hands behind his back as she'd instructed, and followed her lead, let her take him out of the stone hewn interior of the temple and into the early dawn light over Mount Seleya.  When they reached the threshold, and he could see the narrow walkway and the sacred enclosure beyond, Snorri Axelsson halted briefly.

“This might sound strange,” he remarked quietly, “but now, suddenly, I feel okay.”

“You have brought him home,” Amanda replied.

Throughout the memorial service, the Sergeant performed his part well.  He allowed himself to be the recipient of several mind melds, though it was noticeable how the intensity of those contacts combined with the increasing heat affected him.  The preserved body of Sarek’s nephew was displayed briefly before being removed for burial.  Healers had hoped they might repair Savid’s tissues and reinstate the katra by _fal-tor-pan._ But when they received the corpse from Starfleet it was clear that damage caused by the virus to his central nervous system had been too severe.  

His duty discharged, Snorri Axelsson was led away again, secured inside the Vulcan ambassador’s hovercar where Amanda gave him water and urged him to sit down.  The Starfleet officer obliged, and was asleep for most of the flight to Shi’Kahr.  Amanda shook him awake as they were landing.

“ _Lelar did not ask to meld_ ,” he blurted out.

The voice was his, but the language was not.  Amanda and Sarek had time to exchange a glance before, just as suddenly, Axelsson snapped into human self-awareness.  He sat up straighter, blinked, yawned.  He made no reference to the words he had just spoken, said nothing at all as he left the craft and entered their house, except to thank his hostess when he was shown into one of their guest rooms.

Sarek loitered in the kitchen, awaiting her return.  He accepted her offer to share a pot of tea on her private terrace. It still seemed strange to have him at home during the day, when he would normally have been working.  But it was useful to be able to air her questions now, rather than wait.

“Was Savid’s katra distressed?” she asked.  “Is that why it spoke?”

Sarek was matter-of-fact.  “T’Pau severed the psi link on Lelar's side before the memorial service. Where the surviving partner is young enough to seek another bond, it is best to end all contact with the soul of the deceased.”

“What will be done with the katra?”

“If Sergeant Axelsson is willing, my brother will propose that the katra remain where it is until Savid’s son reaches maturity.”

“T’Pau would agree to let a Vulcan soul reside inside a Terran body?  For several years?”

Sarek carried on as if she had not spoken.  “If that is not practicable, T’Pau can make herself the vessel.”

They sat together in silence until the teapot was empty and the shadow of the table had moved to his side.  Amanda recalled she had been present for the marriage of Savid and Lelar, but nothing about the day or the couple came forward in memory.  These thoughts were open to her husband for his scrutiny or comment.  He was scrutinising.

“I am hungry,” she said after a while.  This was not true, and Sarek reacted as expected.

“I detected no release of peptides from your hypothalamus.”

She turned in her chair to face him.  “So you were paying attention.  Is it respect for the dead that is making you silent?  Do you also look back like I just did and ask yourself how well matched they were?”

“That is a very private matter,” Sarek replied.

“Private or not, I think I can tell,” Amanda said.  She removed the lid from the teapot, took the stirring spoon and stood.  She scraped the wet leaves onto the topsoil in the raised vegetable beds.  Her husband’s mind remained just out of her reach, as irritating as an itch that could not be scratched.

“Sarek,” she said, exasperated.

“You believe Lelar would prefer to forego another bond,” her husband replied.

“I do, and I would be interested in your opinion.”  

The bait did not tempt him.  Amanda resigned herself with a sigh; he would want to meditate soon.  She was inside the house, rinsing the teapot when all at once her intuition picked around the unspoken responses and solved the mystery of her husband's reticence.  She marched back outside.  The stirring spoon wagged up and down in front of Sarek’s impassive gaze.

“You are going to suggest her to Spock!”

“It would be more accurate to say that Karn made the suggestion.”

“Your brother knows how many potential bondmates Spock has turned down already.”

“He does.”

“Potential bondmates with, in a few cases, actual potential.  T’tavis, the great-granddaughter of V’lunnos, I liked her.  She was just too young.”

“Was there anyone else?” Sarek replied.

Amanda pursed her lips, and then put the spoon down.

“No.”  But as Sarek began to stand out of his chair, she added, “Lelar will not be a working match.  I can tell you that now.”

At his full height, she had to tip her head to meet his eye.  Her upturned chin attracted his fingertips.

“My remit from the High Council was to secure a Vulcan bondmate," he said.  "The task of securing the best bonding for Spock falls to you.”

He stroked along her jawbone until the pinched line of her mouth relaxed, and integral to the touch was a plea: _do you have anything for him?_


	37. The Dean's Dinner (Before Dinner)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapters of “Matchmaking” are dedicated to Sudata7, who requested them. They will have the same titles as chapters 3 and 4 which appear in “The Architecture of Emotion”, and cover the same events. But in these versions the viewpoint is shifted so that we get Sarek’s understanding of what happened when he met Nyota Uhura for the second time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The year is still 2257. On Earth, it is the month of May. At Starfleet Academy in San Francisco, final exams have finished and the summer break begins with a special weekend away from the city, organised for the benefit of non-Terran students. The Vulcan Ambassador has been invited to attend the inaugural dinner. By coincidence (if you believe in such things) Spock will also attend because he needs to interview Cadet Gaila Jadillu for a teaching assistant post in Computer Science.

“I have not seen my son for the last six years,” Sarek remarked, since the Dean of Students had not been able to resist introducing the subject of familial reunion.

“That long?” Borden Rousseau saw the light flash on his communications array, the line to his personal aide.  He tapped open the channel.

“What is it, Tiavro?”

“A call, sir, from Cadet Uhura.  I told her you were about to leave for the Archer estate, but she is worried you will be too much in demand and she needs to speak with you privately.”

“Put her through on my signal, Ensign.  Ambassador--,” the Dean excused himself, “I don’t think this will take long.  You could have a little private time with Commander Spock while you wait.   Tiavro--,” he spoke into the communicator again, “would you have the Ambassador’s tea replicated inside Boardroom Two?”

Sarek allowed himself to be led along the corridor and directed through opened doors as if he were a stranger to the conference facilities on the upper floor of Academy Administration.  Perhaps the Dean of Students could not restrain his curiosity, and wanted to witness the moment of reunion.  How would a Vulcan father and son behave, after six years apart?

Sarek had strengthened his mental shields in preparation.

When the Dean ushered him inside Boardroom Two, Spock seemed equally well protected.  The psychic silence, which only the two of them could perceive, was absolute, as if they shared no bond.  And Spock’s eyes, which were Amanda’s, gave his father one flat, fleeting glance before returning their attention to his PADD.   

Sarek reacted to the sight of his tea, materialising on the boardroom’s replicator dispenser.  He acknowledged the Dean’s request to be excused, carried his cup to the place at the table which would make him most difficult to ignore, and sat down.

The silence continued, once they were left alone.  Silence was what Spock needed, silence being the only strategy he could employ to avoid a resumption of their ongoing conflict.  Sarek, therefore, was the one with control over the situation.  This would be bonding negotiation number nine.

A curling ribbon of steam drifted over the lip of his teacup and stretched another sixty five millimeters beyond before it evaporated.   Spock reached up to touch his PADD display, suggesting he may have reached the end of a task.  It was an opportune moment.

“Your cousin Tivan,” Sarek began, “has given birth to her third child.”  


	38. The Dean's Dinner - At the Archer Estate

It was Sarek’s fifth visit to Admiral Archer's former residence. The venue, being private and removed from San Francisco, suited lengthy diplomatic overtures. Two thousand, four hundred and eighty-two meters of covered paths formed a network of outdoor walkways across the property. Sarek recalled how, during discussions he led in 2239 to agree Federation membership for the Ardanans, he and Envoy Bitu N^dine trod every one of these paths in order to reach agreement over the Troglyte question.

  
Precipitation had been above average for that time of year. When he and the Envoy reached the location where Sarek now walked, the path between the transporter hub and the villa, the rain became hail.

  
Today the weather was dry and warm. It intensified the airborne perfume from blooming _jasminium officinale_ which grew up the posts supporting the canopy.

  
Sarek walked ahead of Spock and the Dean of Students. The distance was intentional, to create an impression that the private meeting in Boardroom Two had created some animosity.

  
And to create more, if at all possible.

  
He reached the Villa’s southern portico first, gave a single nod to acknowledge Tiavro Dre, the Dean’s aide who waited at the opened solarium doors. Then he continued inside.

  
Immediately to his left Sarek noted the Canariensis palm tree, its planter built into the solarium floor, its canopy now over two meters tall with leaves that fanned out to provide the hiding place he required. He stepped behind the foliage.

  
Among students and faculty already gathered in the room, he could not see Nyota Uhura. This was fortuitous. Sarek remained where he was and watched as Dean Rousseau and his son entered. The Dean came with his aide; they stood close together and absorbed in discussion. Spock maintained a polite distance from them both, and directed his attention to the assembled guests.

  
And it was clear that he noticed her arrival. When Uhura came through the solarium via its second entrance, Sarek’s son moved his head fractionally to look directly at her. Sarek did also, and was interested by what he saw.

  
The eleven year old Nyota had impressed the Vulcan ambassador, being fluent in three dialects of his language and contained in her presentation. Her psi ability could be perceived through his bond with her guardian T'Shin. Now Sarek saw a young woman who, ears concealed by her sash, could likely mislead an unknowing observer to conclude that she was Vulcan.

  
He wondered whether or not Spock perceived her true heritage. His son’s gaze had followed her as she made her way across the solarium.

  
At that point Tiavro Dre, having ended his conversation with the Dean, happened to glance up and notice the Ambassador in hiding. Sarek experienced his own irritation, but before he took control he lowered his mental shields and allowed the Betazoid a moment to perceive it. That was all. Shielding resumed as he stepped out from behind the palm tree and fixed his eyes on Spock.

  
It left Sarek free to appreciate his son's evident fascination: how the hands clasped behind Spock's back clenched slightly as Nyota smiled, and how his left foot replanted itself a few centimetres forward when she removed her sash.

  
Were Amanda here to observe, she might rightly indulge in the anticipation of her own triumph. Here in the solarium stood the female who could help her win the contest. The question was settled by Tiavro Dre, who twice attempted and failed to capture Spock's attention by calling his name.

_He hears and sees nothing but her._

  
Sarek set that thought free, thereby giving Tiavro another reason to try again. But the Betazoid did not succeed until he used his hand to obstruct the view of Cadet Uhura.

  
“Commander Spock?”


	39. Damage and Reparation - The Challenge

Sarek watched the other dinner guests as they received and consumed the dessert course – a slice of frozen emulsion with ingredients that rendered it a pale pink colour. Spock had not touched his. Sarek's own portion was melting at its edges while he tried to work out a new strategy.

  
Should any account of his words or actions this evening find its way back to the Vulcan High Council, no one must see evidence of his true motives. The conversation with Nyota Uhura during the soup course could not be said to do more than acknowledge their previous acquaintance while conveying government approved information concerning T'Shin. He could not safely give her any more attention.

  
Spock, meanwhile, had concluded his assessment of the Orion student. Sarek had perhaps minutes left to engage his son's interest in Nyota, preferably by making her uncomfortable, which would provoke a protective response in any Vulcan experiencing the beginnings of attraction, whether or not they were consciously aware of their desire.

  
He had hoped Uhura might succumb to the emotion she betrayed when Sarek made passing reference to her biological parents. That she chose to wear Vulcan attire also suggested a strong identification with T'Shin. He had hoped she would demonstrate her feelings by asking an inappropriate question about the psi research project or her missing guardian.

  
Instead she demonstrated just how well T'Shin had trained her in self-control. She maintained focus on her duties to the Orion. To employ the appropriate Standard idiom, this put him ‘in a tight spot'.

  
Sarek was considering whether his best course of action would be to introduce himself to Uhura's companion. If Spock hired the Orion programmer, her olfactory sensitivity would detect any attraction between her employer and Nyota. And if Sarek had established a rapport with her, she might be willing to share that knowledge.

  
And then he heard Cadet Uhura address him again in Vulcan.

  
“ _Ambassador, was it not the case that some of T’Shin’s test subjects did inherit improved telepathic ability?”_

  
And the Orion was forgotten. Sarek knew his next move.

  
***

  
" _Place your hand against mine,”_ Sarek needed to ask again. Cadet Uhura had failed to respond to his first request.

  
And he waited. Their second conversation had achieved all his aims. As if she had known his plans beforehand, Nyota asked for the one thing he could not give her – information concerning T'Shin. His responses, along with the impossible challenge he was about to set her, would put his loyalty to the High Council beyond question.

  
And he was satisfied with Spock's insistent attempts to communicate through their familial bond. For all his son’s clinical protests -- _Sa-mehk, this is an inappropriate demand upon a Terran, regardless of her particular upbringing. And a student reception is not the place_ – Sarek knew Spock well enough to perceive the anger he was working to contain.

  
And behind the anger, perhaps, lurked jealousy. Protests about what was appropriate stood in place of issues that were less logical, more primal. If Sarek persisted, he was confident that Spock's arguments would change focus, become not about the place or time chosen for this linking with Cadet Uhura, but more personal. _Who has the right to claim that mind?_

  
Once Nyota had prepared herself, and placed her hand against his, Sarek took time to inspect her psi defences. He found them well constructed. There were no weaknesses he could exploit, no stray thoughts left unguarded which could provide a key to something secured away.

  
The only thing he knew was that she was asking by telepathy for the same thing she had asked for aloud.

  
His response was a demand -- that she violate his defences, seize the answers she wanted. Of course, she would not.

  
- _T'Shin would not teach me this-_

  
Perhaps not, Sarek mused, but the number, range and depth of her psi defences were such that she could launch a _kai-kwul_ attack. It was likely T'Shin did not teach her daughter lest she proved too adept too soon.

  
Fascinated, he rallied his own abilities, set them up in offensive array against her, and fired his first shot.

  
The advantage of surprise allowed him to break through. She could only counter by pulling her hand free, but not before he had sensed her confusion and revulsion. These reactions were strong, yet in combination could not compare with her affection for T'Shin or her determination to know what had happened to her guardian.

  
He decided to challenge her out loud.

  
“ _Are you not able to defend your mind against mine?”_

  
As Nyota stammered a reply, Sarek felt an unexpected psychic pressure.

  
“ _Ambassador ...,”_

  
Spock's tone of voice had an edge. His emotions were considerably sharper, and cut across the bond between them with disrespectful force, a level so unprecedented that Amanda felt it, though she was light years away. Spock withdrew only to relieve his mother's anxiety.


	40. Damage and Reparation - Coffee

Sarek could understand Dean Rousseau's decision to employ Tiavro Dre. 

The Ensign’s shock, being witness to an act of telepathic assault, did not diminish either his foresight or his poise.  Throughout the challenge, the Betazoid maintained a secure hold across Cadet Uhura’s upper back.  He directed the Orion to position herself in such a way that, when Nyota lost consciousness, no attention was drawn to their end of the dining table.  The Terran cadet slumped noiselessly into her friend's waiting arms. 

With that accomplished, Tiavro turned to the oblivious Ardanian cadet sitting on his left side.  He employed excellent Standard phrasing and intonation, asking if they would be _so_ kind as to pass a message to the Dean. It was time for everyone to make their way to the villa library, where coffee would be served. 

Sarek left the dining room as part of this exodus.  On the way he drew alongside Dr. Khauri, received a warm greeting and a request to aid the professor's memory -- how long had it been since they last met? 

“The Andorian system exhibition in Hobart, January of 2252,” Sarek recalled.  He enquired whether the doctor had been able to compile and publish his research comparing the historical development of Tellarite and Terran formal debate.   

Sarek knew the answer; he had read the thesis.  He also knew that Spock was following him.  His son's fury, imperfectly contained, broadcast as heat across their bond.  Dr. Khauri was unwittingly preventing any expression of this anger for as long as he continued speaking. 

Inside the library, the Vulcan Ambassador joined the professor in the line for hot beverages, helped himself to a cup of black coffee he did not intend to drink.  Another four minutes and seven seconds of conversation brought Dr. Khauri to a juncture where Sarek could leave the instructor with his best wishes and excuse himself.  Then he steered his way through the asteroid belt of conversation groups, none of which had ventured very far from the entrance.  

Beyond them, the library offered great depth of unoccupied space.  Sarek set a course to walk along the western side of the room.  There were portals here, multiple inviting corners which turned in upon themselves, the walls insulated by shelved volumes of rare Terran print artefacts.  When he reached the furthest one, he adjusted his trajectory and went inside, steered left and then left again until he could not go further. 

The final destination was a space two point eight meters square, containing air which could not circulate and contained less oxygen.  The alcove shelves held various bound paper editions of antique Terran encyclopaedia.  Sarek removed one volume, merely to satisfy his curiosity concerning its weight. 

Aware of the sound of breathing behind him, he said, “Your mother will likely require more reassurance than has been given.  Would you prefer to communicate with her first?” 

“I will not defend your actions,” Spock warned. 

Sarek put the book back in its place and turned to face his son.  The alcove also contained two chairs.  To sit in one would be a diplomatic blunder, diminishing his stature and thereby his authority.  But the armrests were flat panels of varnished softwood, and he used one of these to set down his coffee. 

“You may say whatever you choose," he replied. 

“Then I will request that she ask you to explain your decision to assault another mind, and tell me.  It seems I am not permitted to enquire directly.” 

“On the contrary,” Sarek said, “I simply preferred to have a discussion without distractions or witnesses.” 

Spock exhaled.  The action was too deliberate and audible for mere respiration.  Sarek believed it communicated, and he attempted an answer. 

“Judged without context, as a matter of pure principle, the challenge I made to the Terran cadet this evening would be unacceptable Vulcan behaviour.” 

“What context,” Spock countered, “could justify it?  A Vulcan mind is so much stronger than a human one.” 

“Agreed,” said Sarek.  “Yet the cadet, having been adopted by xenolinguist T'Shin, was operating under the notion that familiarity with a Vulcan, and even with Vulcan mental disciplines, would make her own mind substantially different.” 

Perhaps, Sarek thought, Spock would now perceive his father’s nonverbal communication.  For three point seven seconds the Vulcan ambassador broke eye contact with his son, because what he had just said was not a lie but it took a detour around the truth. 

Nyota Uhura believed what she did because her mind _was_ substantially different. 

She had defended herself against a Vulcan.  He could not force her to yield using any direct attack upon the stronghold of her thoughts.  She endured to a point where they would have attracted the attention of other guests, had they continued.  Sarek was forced to shorten the contest by compromising the vital link between her brain and body. 

This was as disconcerting now as it had been then.  With his eyes still downcast, Sarek saw a chance for emotional reprieve via his cup of coffee.  He lifted it again and took an experimental sip.  It gave him another reason to frown with consternation. 

“The appeal of this beverage continues to elude me,” he remarked. 

“Father,” Spock stepped into the space between the chairs, so that he got in the way of Sarek's gaze.  “I would argue that the aim of Cadet Uhura's enquiries was merely to garner information about an absent foster parent.” 

“Then argue for the ‘merely’,” Sarek challenged him.  “Let us hypothesize that I possess knowledge concerning T’Shin, about what happened to cause her disappearance from Terra.  Do you believe, if I gave the cadet this knowledge, that having it would suffice?” 

He continued after a pause which was deliberately made too short, so that Spock would not have time to consider a response. 

“If, for example, I told her that T’Shin chose to return to Vulcan, is it not logical to suppose that Uhura would want to know where she went?  What if T’Shin did not wish to be located?  The xenolinguist had a large number of direct descendants.  Do they know the cadet?  Would they accept her claim to be a daughter of T’Shin?  In the event that T’Shin is deceased, would Uhura believe she had claim to any property in her guardian’s estate?” 

Spock received a longer pause after this, because Sarek had confidence in the robustness of his arguments.  They each took fourteen breaths of the same stale air, not improved by the faint scent of coffee. 

“If she has been trained in logic,” Spock said at last, “she would accept these points you make, just as I have.  She would not need to be attacked.” 

“Logic,” Sarek countered, “can be uncertain where family members are concerned.”  

“Do you know what happened to T’Shin?” 

“You ask this on the cadet’s behalf?” 

“I merely want to know--,” 

“-- _Merely_ ,” Sarek stopped him.  “You seem fond of this term.  Fond also, perhaps, of simplifying motives which in fact are more complex.” 

Spock’s sympathetic nervous system, whether faster or stronger than his control mechanisms, caused blood vessels to expand long enough to colour the skin on his ears and throat.  Sarek turned aside, as if this emotional lapse disappointed him.  The truth was quite the opposite.  It was most reassuring to see that Spock’s logic became uncertain where _she_ was concerned.     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, everybody, there will be just one more chapter added to "Matchmaking" before I type "The End" at the bottom of the page.  
> But fanfiction is my addiction. The next story I want to write will be called "Rumarie" and it will pick up where "The Architecture of Emotion" ends -- with Spock and Uhura together on Vulcan. It will be a honeymoon of sorts, so expect a lot of "E" content because nobody will be enforcing student/faculty fraternisation rules so far away from Starfleet Academy!


	41. Indiana Oolitic Limestone With Stained Glass Insets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In Chapter 17 of “The Architecture of Emotion" (Kae-Kwul), Amanda recalls how angry she was with her husband, when she learned that he had challenged T’Shin’s adopted human daughter to a telepathic battle during an Academy dinner. 
> 
> Sarek muses on that reaction as he returns to Vulcan.

Sarek could not move two thousand, four hundred and forty-two kilograms on his own.  With the help of junior aides from the Vulcan consulate, his well wrapped purchase was carried into the cargo hold of the diplomatic shuttle.  They stowed it broadside down, for greater stability, and strapped it to the floor so that it would not move. 

“Indiana oolitic limestone...,” 

This was the first thing Amanda would be told, to explain why a hovercrane was required to transport her gift from the shuttleport to their home.  He would inform her of its many other properties as it was being lowered to the ground, before it was uncovered, to pique her curiosity.  Then her advice would be sought regarding its place in the garden.  The optimal location would consider the two curvaceous lacuna that opened up the centre of the sculpture, filled with cylinders of coloured glass.  They would be best served by standing in the open, with a clear, flat surface nearby onto which they could cast their filtered light in distinctly Terran blues and greens. 

Naturally, he expected to be interrupted at some point during these proceedings. 

“ _Adun_ , this will not buy you forgiveness.” 

He would protest (with terms of endearment) that at no time had he considered purchasing the artwork as a bribe. 

Very likely she would stare him down.  She would use their bond to chide; he would probably hear phrases repeated from their subspace conversation after the Dean's dinner. 

 _You must adhere to the High Council_ _’s_ _decision about_ _T'Shin_ _.  I understand that.  So why didn’t you speak directly, and tell the cadet you could not help her?_ _If she decided to dispute with you_ _, then_ _she would have made herself a nuisance.  You might have walked away from the table blameless.  But now you've done this!  She could report you to Starfleet._  

She could. 

In hindsight, he questioned whether his audacious decision to challenge Nyota Uhura was a result of logic, unless it was a logic of desperation, of last chances  -- a reaction to the PADD message he left the table to read while the soup course was cleared away. 

‘ _T_ _hough I do not possess your diplomatic skills,’_ Karn had written, ‘ _I believe I have defeated_ _Lelar’s_ _most strenuous objections to a second bonding …,'_  

Sarek stopped reading there.  Diplomacy, he wanted to tell his elder brother, could not bring about a result that was not fundamentally desired by the participating parties.  Amanda was right.  As the situation stood, the only achievable union between Spock and Lelar would be brokered by coercion.  Assuming the pair could tolerate their bond after that, their telepathic link would exist more in theory than in practice, the mental connection gradually calcifying through inattention or distaste.   

They would become a close facsimile of his own first marriage. 

The diplomatic shuttle became airborne.  As the viewscreen Terran landscape receded, and objects which had been large shrank in the presence of things much larger still, Sarek applied hindsight to his hindsight. 

And he made up his mind.  His actions during the dinner had not been illogical.  No -- no more so than bonding itself, tradition carried down from the time of the Beginning, without change.  No instruction from Surak had ever criticised the practice or called for its end.  What else did that suggest except that logic could, perhaps should, be aligned with the needs of the Vulcan heart and soul? 

The lore of clan S’chn T’gai said the teacher esteemed his own bondmate, and that they were well matched.  This was what he desired for his son.  If the Council believed a logical case could be made for using arguments and force to bond Spock with a Vulcan female, then by extension those same means were justified if they resulted in a bond with the _best_ female.   

As the shuttle went to warp, the viewscreens were paused on their last live image – the blue green Terran orb suspended like a drop of coloured glass in space.  The continent of Africa faced him.  Sarek recalled, from his studies of Earth paleoanthropology, that this was the place human life began.  He fixed his gaze meditatively on the southeast coast and indulged (briefly) in a hope that Africa might have more beginnings it wished to create. 

THE END   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End Note: if you would like to see the limestone sculpture that inspired my idea for Sarek’s gift to Amanda, go to this link: 
> 
> http://www.hamanddoultingstone.com/stones/bath 
> 
> Under the Heading “Applications of Bath Stone”, go to the fourth row down and the second photograph from the left.


End file.
